Hourglass
by Clumsy Ninjable
Summary: Misaki Takahata is a relatively normal young woman with dreams of becoming forever friends with her first college roommate. However, when a monster attacks her campus her roommate's dangerous second life is revealed and draws Misaki deep into a world she never asked to be apart of. Kurama/OC Yusuke/Keiko Kuwabara/Yukina Hiei/Mukuro
1. Chapter 1: TA's Are Essentially Useless

An exhausted businessman stumbled his way into a dimly lit bar, his mind dead set on getting absolutely obliterated. His job, his wife, his kids, and all of his other responsibilities had come bearing down on him like a ton of bricks, and so he sought to escape the usual monotony of his life in order to splurge on some well-deserved drunkenness. Of course, even this came with a caveat, and he found his spirits crushed when he discovered that his favorite watering hole had become clogged with what felt like a thousand people. College had just resumed session and so his little oasis had become swarmed with hordes of obnoxious college kids looking for a cheap date and even cheaper beer. He huffed, casting an irritated eye over the crowd and wondering if he should even bother to try and find a sea when, suddenly, the mobs parted to reveal a single barstool at the edge of the bar. He pushed for it, his only lifeline amidst a sea of immature, and as he slid onto the stool he realized, to his delight, that one of the prettiest young women he'd seen in a long time was perched daintily next to him. She was staring into her empty drink, consumed by her own thoughts as she carelessly poked at an ice cube at the bottom of her glass. He felt as if he'd been struck by lightening when, slowly, she raised her glasses-rimmed eyes to him and offered a sad, half-hearted smile. Never before had he seen someone so beautiful look to wretched before, and with renewed vigor he flagged down the bartender to order her a refill. If he were lucky, he thought, perhaps listening to that pretty girl's problems would make him forget his own. If he were REALLY lucky, perhaps the two of them mind find themselves at a hotel later tonight, forgetting their worries together.

Misaki Takahata smiled as soon as the man's back was turned. Some days it was all just too easy. She felt like a particularly clever angler fish, bobbing her lure just the right way so that the stupid fish would willingly swim straight into her jaws. See, she was a practiced veteran when it came to getting free drinks. Everything she did was crafted just for that reason; her short hair, her glasses, her chic style, the way she would sigh and play with her hair and draw into herself were all strategies she had honed through years of practice in order to score free drinks from horny old men. She only ever preyed on the older men, too, despite them being the farthest thing from her personal preference. The men she was legitimately attracted to were often as broke as she was and could only offer up lukewarm beer. But an older businessman? They always went for top shelf. Whiskey, rum, vodka, bourbon, wine, cocktails; they spared little to no expense if there was even a whisper of a good time later on that night. Of course, she would always find some excuse to disappear into the night before that happened.

The key, she thought as she watched the man fumble with his wallet, was all in the presentation. She'd often schooled her friends on this, who marvelled at her track record. She hadn't had to pay for a drink since she'd started her Freshman year two months ago. Misaki would tell them that they couldn't appear too desperate, too upset, too weepy, or bubbly. IT was easy to overact and scare a target away. Instead, they had to aim for the middle of their emotions. She told them that they had to be on the cusp of a mental breakdown, not in the midst of it, and like clockwork some valiant white knight would appear to solve all of their problems. THey had to appear as if the burdens of the world had just about crushed them, and men would materialize to their sides with the strength they needed to carry on. Of course, if Misaki was really upset those men were nowhere to be found. Real tears were ugly, scary things, however a subtly downcast eye was irresistible.

A drink landing on the bartop before her broke her of her reverie. The man was smiling pleasantly at her as he nervously wrung his hands. Misaki took all of him in, from his salt and pepper hair, to his wrinkles, to the uncertain way his eyes would dart around the bar before landing back on her. He was nervous, perhaps it was his first time picking up a girl at a bar since he married his wife. Misaki watched as he twisted a wedding ring around his finger and idly wondered if his wife knew what kind of man she had married. She hid her disdain with a small smile as he slid back onto his seat.

"Hello, miss," he greeted, "I hope you don't mind, but I saw that you needed a refill so I took it upon myself to get you one."

"You're too kind," Misaki thanked, "Although I was just about to get going. . . "

"W-wait!" the guy practically grabbed at her arm as Misaki shifted on her barstool. Realizing his forwardness, his hand snapped back to his side and his cheeks flushed. "I only mean. . . well. . . you looked like you could use someone to talk to. I always find it helps to tell your problems to a stranger. "

Misaki did not let her emotions show on her face, but inwardly she was smirking. See?Just like clockwork.

"Well," Misaki sighed, playing coy for now. She took a sip from her drink, relishing as the juice and vodka slid in cooling, soothing rivulets down her throat. "It's nothing out of the usual. In fact, I'm not even sure why it's bothering me this much, you know?"

"Hey," he smiled, "just because your problems seem small doesn't mean that they actually are. I'd be more than happy to lend you an ear!"

His desperation was off putting, and she took another sip of her drink, intent on finishing it before he got any more ideas. Already she could see his mind churning behind his eyes, searching her face for the right thing to say. Now that she'd gotten what she wanted came the tricky part; getting him to leave. Male angler fish often fused to the female angler fishes that they were courting, creating these disgusting like protrusions that would scar the female forever. Misaki would rather avoid that at all costs if she could, and as she drank as quickly as she could without arousing suspicions, she began to formulate her plan. She hadn't missed the looks of disgust he'd cast at such a young crowd when she'd come in, perhaps she could use that to her advantage.

Coming up for air, she placed her drink down and smiled up at the man. "I'm just having some trouble with my roommate."

"Oh!" The man seemed legitimately surprised. "Oh, you're. . . you're in school? I thought you were much older."

"I'm not sure to take that as a compliment or an insult," Misaki laughed, and the businessman turned crimson. A less practiced hand would have played that up, but overreacting to an offhanded comment was a good way to get yourself banned from a bar for misconduct. It was better to play it cool.

"I didn't mean it like that!" He cried, then took a heart swig of his own drink in order to keep his hands busy. "I only meant that you seem much more mature than the other kids here."

"Yeah, well, I'm not," Misaki grumbled, and the man seemed to be fretting.

"Please, tell me about your troubles with your roommate. Maybe I can help?"

Misaki hummed softly to herself, searching through the crowd for another way out. A few more sips and she'd be finished and could slink into the safety of the crowd. She spotted a couple at the other end of the bar. The girl had her shoulders hunched over, all but cornered against the wall as some guy hovered over her. He leaned in, his head inches away from her own, and to everyone else it looked as if they were lovers. However Misaki could see the rigid set in the girl's shoulders, the way she leaned as far away from him as she could, how her gaze fervently scanned the bar in search of assistance. Their eyes met, and the silent plea went up. With a smile, Misaki turned towards the old man.

"I'm really sorry," she laughed, "I thought my roommate had blown me off again, but she's right over there. I'm going to go and say hello. Thank you so much for the drink!"

She disappeared into the crowd with his weak protests dancing at her heels. Not only was Misaki a Master of the Free Drink, but she also boasted having a 3rd Degree Black Belt in Moving Through Crowds. She found pockets where the people weren't so thick and pressed forward until, less than a minute later, she was standing behind the offending guy and his terrified prey. Now, this part was also fairly tricky. She needed to make her approach believable, or else he wouldn't think that they knew each other and continue to pester them. The goal now was to get her away from him and into the bathroom. And for that she needed him to think that they were friends.

"Hey!"She called loudly behind the couple. The guy turned to her with a ferocious glare on his face, but she was unperturbed as she pushed past him and slung an arm over the terrified girl. The girl whipped her head up and Misaki gave her a comforting smile. The shoulders beneath her arm began to tremble and Misaki whispered, "Hold it together, girl, just for a little while longer."

She leaned back, smiling broadly as she spun the girl on her stool and clasped her by her shoulders, "I didn't think you were going to come out tonight! I thought you had to study. "

"I did. . . but. . . " the girl coughed nervously, her eyes flickering to the guy over her shoulder. Misaki turned dramatically to look at him as if for the first time, and she looked him up and down. The guy interpreted this as if she were checking him out, and whatever annoyance he felt evaporated as he puffed his chest out. From the other end of the bar, Misaki saw the businessman watching them and knew that she had to make her exit fast.

"Oh, I see how it is. You'll come out for him but not for your own roommate?How cruel!" Misaki grabbed the girl's arm, pulling her off the barstool. "C'mon, I need some air. Let's go outside for a smoke. They're in your purse, right?"

"What? Oh!" She picked up on it, and swirling around she grabbed her jacket and purse from her stool. "Yes, c'mon, let's go. "

"Well, if you two are going outside. . . " the guy smirked, and Misaki stuck a finger in his face. The smile fell off his face, but when she lowered her hand, he saw that she was smiling and his annoyance seeped away once again.

"Nope, sorry man, but this is girl time. How else am I supposed to get the dish on you?Ask you directly?" She threw her head back and laughed, over dramatic for sure, but that was sort of the feel she was going for.

She grabbed the girl's hand again and led her back through the crowds and out into the chilly night. Late November had come to Japan, with the temperature barely climbing into the 60s during the day and dropping down to the 30s at night. The two girls shivered as they pulled their jackets on, and once they had made it clear from the windows the girl broke down in sobs.

"Thank you so much," she cried. "I didn't know. . . he wouldn't leave me alone and then he. . . touched my butt and I didn't. . . "

"Hey, it's alright, you're safe now," Misaki soothed, rubbing the girl's back in comforting circles. "There's a lot of scummy men like that. Do you want me to go back and have the bouncer kick him out?I can totally go and do that for you. "

"No. . . No, I just want to go home. "

"Okay, okay. Where do you live?"

"The dorms at _ University. But. . . they close the gates at 9:30 and I think I'm locked out for the night." She sniffed miserably.

Misaki smiled and gave the girl's hand a comforting squeeze. "Hey, that's where I live, too. And guess what," she grinned, "I know a secret way in!C'mon, let's get back before Mr. Creep comes out and figures out we've escaped."

The girl nodded and the two of them set out down the sidewalk. It turned out the girl's name was Kaori Sato, and she had heard of Misaki Takahata.

"You're a legend, even though it's only your first year at _ University," she smiled, her tears having long since dried. Her puffy cheeks were the only remaining evidence of her harrowing night. 'Keep her distracted,' Misaki thought as they crossed the street. 'Just keep her thinking of something else.'

"I wouldn't say I'm a legend," Misaki drawled, though the fact that she was infamous tickled her pink.

"You are!" Kaori insisted. "It's said that you haven't paid for your own drinks since you came here, and you're always good to help out a girl in need. That's why I was out tonight. . . " she sighed miserable. "I thought that I could maybe get a free drink like you can. "

"Honestly, what I do is very degrading," Misaki laughed. "Even I'll admit that. It's more of a hobby than anything, and it's certainly not for the uninitiated. Let me tell you, it's easier and safer to just pay for your own drinks."

"I know," Kaori sniffed, "I just don't have many friends on campus, and you're so popular that I figured. . ."

"Being popular and having friends are two different things," Misaki snorted. "In fact, I don't have any friends on campus, either. I can't even seem to befriend my roommate, the girl you're, like, supposed to be friends with!"

"Oh wow, really?" her tone brightened up considerably. "Who is your roommate?"

"Keiko Yukimura," Misaki said, "And let me tell you, she is a tough nut to crack. "

"I have her in some of my classes," Kaori nodded, "and it's just as you say. She's quiet and keeps to herself, but she gets a bit rude if you try and get close to her. "

"I'm determined to be best friends with her, either way," Misaki confided. "I'm going to get that girl to open up to me one way or another!"

"You sound confident," Kaori giggled. "Thank you, again, for rescuing me and walking me back. I feel so much better now. "

"Good," Misaki said. "And hey, let me know the next time you come out. I have enough charm to get free drinks for both of us. Plus, it's way more fun to go out hunting with a friend. "

"Friend?" she whispered the word as if it were sacred, then a beaming smile lit up her face. Kaori had the potential to be very cute. Her long, brown hair hung in loose curls down her back, and her bright green eyes were warm and friendly. She seemed sweet, too, and while her clothes were a bit outdated, she had an innocent charm all her own. Misaki couldn't help but grin back at her.

"Yeah. I'm assuming tonight makes us friends, right?" Misaki teased.

"Yes, of course!" Kaori was practically bubbling with excitement. The two made their way towards the main gate of the University, then Misaki led her along past the front of it. "I'd very much like to be friends with you!"

"There," Misaki smiled as she paused at the back of an equipment shed that sat right up against the fence. "Now you can say you have at least one friend on campus. Now," she pointed up at the fence, "we have to climb the fence and use the drain pipe on that shed to get back into the campus. You feeling up to it?"

Kaori stared up at the fence with determination. Misaki went up first, climbing with ease, then jumped to the roof of the shed. Kaori came up after her. She didn't possess the same strength that Misaki did, but she was more than happy to help her. As Kaori slipped to the top, her hands cold and cramping from the cold, Misaki grabbed ahold of her and yanked her up onto the roof. Then the two slid down the drain pipe and snuck through the grounds back towards the first year girls dormitory.

"I know I've said it a thousand times," Kaori whispered as they crept through the halls towards her room, "but thank you so much. You really are amazing, Misaki."

"Don't worry about it," Misaki replied, wrapping an arm around Kaori's shoulders and pulling her into a half hug. "Look, my room is 508 and the extension for the room is 8505. Come by or call any time you need something and I'll do my best. "

"Likewise," Kaori said. "I'm not sure that there's much I'll be able to do for you, but I'll try my best. "

With that the two women bid each other goodbye and Misaki stealthed up the stairs to her own dorm room. This late at night, everyone had either gone to bed or sought refuge off campus, so the halls were dark. Still, that didn't mean that the resident assistants or the resident director herself wouldn't be prowling the halls and looking for troublemakers like Misaki. _ University was a women's only college, meaning that all of the students were girls. As such, it had an unbelievably strict curfew and rules. Any male guests had to be off the campus by 7, and girls with company had to keep their doors open. Any girl that was caught with a male companion would be forced before the disciplinary council and could even face expulsion. It was the main reason why Misaki's parents had chosen to send her here. They thought the strict rules would tame Misaki's wild spirits, but where there was a will there was a way, and Misaki had will in spades.

Creeping back to her own room, she unlocked the door with a quiet click and stole away inside. Much to her dismay, Keiko was up, idly scribbling in her notebook at her desk and staring distractedly at her own reflection in the darkened window. As Misaki came in she locked eyes with Keiko's reflection. Keiko said nothing, but her brow furrowed slightly. Misaki did her best to ignore it as she kicked off her shoes and crept to her bed. She took off her hat and dress, peeling off her boots and tights, and folded her glasses neatly on her bedside table. Her meeting with Kaori had reinvigorated her. She'd been close to giving up on Keiko. Her standoffish nature had been draining Misaki's endless well of optimism. Every magazine, every article, every female role model she'd ever looked up to had told her that her college roommate would become her first forever friend. They were destined to have late night cram sessions. They were supposed to cry over romantic comedies while eating obscene amounts of ice cream. They should have been wearing face masks with cucumbers over their eyes while painting each other's toes. An unbreakable bond was supposed to have formed between them immediately, one that would last them the course of their life. However, their opposite personalities had really thrown a wrench into her plans. Still, Misaki thought as she snuggled further beneath her covers, opposites attracted. Perhaps what Keiko needed was a little Misaki to liven up her otherwise dour life, and perhaps Misaki needed a little Keiko to keep her grounded. They were like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, and Misaki wished that Keiko would realize that.

She cast a glance over at Keiko, who was still sitting quietly at her desk, though now she was incredibly blurry since Misaki had taken her glasses off. They would be friends, Misaki smiled to herself as her eyes drifted shut.

The next morning Misaki awoke to the sound of her alarm. Flailing, she managed to whack the whole clock off her bedside table, catapulting her glasses clear across the room as well. She groaned, struggling with her covers for a moment before managing to untwist her legs and gently brush her toes against the floor. When she was certain her glasses weren't in immediate danger of being crushed, she slowly lowered herself down onto all fours and began the sleepy morning game she'd affectionately dubbed, 'Find your glasses on a textured rug. 'She slowly crawled to her alarm clock first, smashing her fingers into the buttons until the annoying buzzing was silenced. Then she felt around on the floor, making large sweeping arcs with her hands until her fingerdips bumped up against the cool frames of her glasses. With a victorious grin, she slid them onto her face then let out a monstrous yawn.

"You know," Keiko's voice was laced with amusement, "You do that almost every morning. You'd think you'd learn to put your glasses elsewhere by now."

Misaki pulled herself to her feet, plopping her alarmclock back on her nighstand and giving Keiko her best grin. She was certain she looked awful. She'd fallen asleep wearing her makeup last night and she probably looked as if she had two black eyes. And her hair, she knew, was ab absolute mess. Sometimes she regretted cutting it so short; surprisingly, long hair was far lower maintenance than short. She envied Keiko's long locks sometimes. If she were having a bad hair day, all she had to do was throw it up in a bun. Misaki didn't have that luxury and would sometimes spend hours trying to tame a single, stubborn cowlick.

"Well, some people play games in the morning to help their brains wake up," Misaki said as she foraged for her makeup wipes. "Some people wake up early and scream at the sun. And I search for my glasses on a patterned rug while hoping I don't accidentally crush them. Who needs coffee when you've got good ol' adrenaline?"

Keiko rolled her eyes, smiling, and Misaki felt herself grinning in response. She had a good feeling about today, though she couldn't possibly understand why. Some days she just woke up knewing that she would be lucky, and she hoped that herpas today they would see a breakthrough in their relationship.

"You heading down to breakfast?" she asked, plopping down on her bed and doing her best to take off last night's smudges.

"In a bit. I'm going to study for a bit, first. We have that test today in history. . . "

Misaki grumbled. "Oh yeah, I completely forgot. "She wasn't worried about the test; it was in Japanese History 101, and since her father was a professor of History at Tokyo Univeristy she'd grown up around the subject and was incredibly familiar with it. "Does that meant that weird TA is gonna be running the show today?"

Keiko sighed and nodded. The weird teacher's assistant was the only person that Keiko and Misaki had erally bonded over. Since _ University was a women's only college, the only men allowed on campus were professors and TAs. Most of the professors were old and decrepit, and a majority of the TAs were serious scholars studying for their PhDs. However, one of the TAs stood out. He was a geeky looking kid, maybe a few years older than them. He was unassuming, and if Misaki were being perfectly honest below average in looks, however since he was the only single bachelor close to their age on an all girl's campus, most of the students were half in love with him. Misaki and Keiko, however, found him incredibly offputting. He would always lurk close to Keiko, regardless fo where she was in the room, and if she watched him when noone else was, the TA was always boring holes straight into Keiko. It was weird, and the vibe he gave off sent uncertain shivers down her spine. This was the only time that Keiko ever sought out Misaki, begging her to walk into class together and sit beside one another, not that it did any good. Whenever Keiko entered the room it was as if nobody else existed.

"Yeah," Keiko huffed and crossed her arms. "I'm not looking forward to it at all."

"Well, if you stick around while I shower we can grab some breakfast together and then head to the test."

"That sounds good," Keiko nodded. "I'll be right here. "

With a skip in her step, Misaki grabbed her towel and toiletries before slipping into her flipflops and shuffling down the hall to the communal bathroom. Locating an empty stall, she set herself up and stepped beneath the warm spray of water. That had been her friendliest encounter with Keiko yet, and she rushed to wash and shave so as to not keep her waiting and waste Keiko's good mood. . In record time she toweled off and hurried back to her room so that she could blow dry her hair. Normally she was meticulous with her appearance, taking the time to primp and pluck and poke until she was movie-star levels of attractive, however today was not the day for vanity. Keiko had had a conversation with her. Keiko had smiled at her. She wasn't about to let her own pride get in the way of making a new friend, so she quickly bloe dried her hair while Keiko poured over her notes and ran through the inky black locks once with a straightener. A bit of foundation, eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara and she was ready to go. Keiko smiled once she was done, and then the two grabbed their bags and headed out into campus. Without the threat of an RA or RD, the two took the elevator.

"I heard you ran into Kaori last night," Keiko said once the doors slid shut.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, we were talking this morning when I went to borrow some notes for a class," she smiled kindly. "What you did for her last night was very kind."

"Well," Misaki shrugged, shuffling her feet uncertainly, "I've been in situations like that before. Getting hit on by some creep is really scary and it's really easy to clam up and land yourself in a bad situation. I can't tell you how many times I wish someone had come and gotten me out of it. "She glanced up at Keiko from the corner of her eye, "I'd do it for any girl whose stuck like that."

Keiko dropped her gaze to her feet, her mouth twisted into a tight frown. "I was just surprised, to be honest. When I first moved in. . . well, the RA said some unpleasant things about you and I guess I let them cloud my judgement. So I owe you an apology." Keiko bowed deeply, and Misaki stared at the top of her head with mild disbelief.

Misaki's first roommate had never even made it to campus before dropping out, and so for a whole month she had the room to herself. Most girls would have relished in this, as singles were rare and highly sought after, but not Misaki. So she had kept her things neat and on her side of the room as she eagerly awaited for someone to move in, desperate to make a good first impression. To know that Keiko's opinion had been rigged against her from the start made her stomach drop. What had the RA said about her?Misaki could only imagine. Already in her short time on campus a whilwind of rumors had sprung up around her, ranging from the number of guys she'd slept with our how many abortions she'd had. They were all untrue, and Misaki had hoped that time would make them forget, but the opposite had happened. The rumors grew more and more ridiculous, and at this point it would simply be too exhausting to go around and put out all the fires. She'd do her, damned what anyone else should think of her, but the fact that Keiko had bought into it stung more than she'd expected.

"Well, apology accepted," Misaki nudged Keiko with her elbow. "See, I have my good sides, too."

"Let's start over, then," Keiko beamed and inclined her head. "My name is Keiko Yukimura and I'm going to be your roommate for the year."

Misaki dropped into an exaggerated bow, swopping her arm in front of her like an Englishgentleman asking a Victorian woman to dance. "And I'm Misaki Takahata. I hope you and I can become good friends."

The feeling of dread had evaporated by the time the two made it to the cafeteria. Loading up their trays, Misaki scanned the tables and found Kaori seated by herself. The two headed over there, much to Kaori's delight, and the three chatted idly over their breakfasts until Keiko excused herself to the restroom. As soon as she was out of earshot, Kaori leaned forward.

"I told her about what you did for me last night," Kaori whispered. "It's not fair that she kept writing you off and you're a really nice person."

Misaki could not stop the stupid grin that stretched across her lips.

"Kaori, thank you so much for clearing my name," Misaki said and clasped the girl's hands. "I know it's such a stupid thing to be concerned over, like you can't expect everyone to like you, but it's always been a dream of mine to be friends with my roommate."

"And it's always been a dream of mine to make a friend in college," Kaori smiled shyly. "I've always been somewhat of a loner, that's why I picked this school. I thought it'd be easier to make friends but. . . " she shivered incoluntarily, "girls are scary. "

"You've got that right," Misaki agreed. "If guys get into a fight they'll just beat each other up and be best friends by lunch. Girls hold onto that shit forever."

When Keiko returned, the two excused themselves and hurried towards their testing hall. The classrooms were small, and Keiko and Misaki slid into a table in the center of the room. This was a tactic that the two had worked out in advance; the middle tables were the hardest to reach, and so it was just about barrier between her and the TA. The rest of the class filed in one by one, and at 10:30 on the nose the TA walked in with a stack of papers. Wordlessly, he began passing them out, dropping a packet on each desk. Most would just hand them out to the front row and pass them back, but this too was something that the TA did to get closer to Keiko. He paused by their table, throwing Misaki's haphazardly at her before lingering on Keiko's. He made a show of unsticking the pages, and Misaki could tell from the predatory look in his eye that he was stalling for another reason entirely. Eventually he plopped the packet on her desk and moved on. Misaki felt Keiko shiver beside her. Once all the tests were passed out, scantrons and all, the test started. The TA wrote the start and end times on the board, and when the minute ticked by, they all flipped their tests over and set to work. Misaki made quick work of it. They were basic multiple choice questions, some true/false, matching. . . she'd hoped that in college they'd at least change the test-taking formula up a bit. When she got to the short answer, she snuck a peek at Keiko. She was plugging along as usual; Keiko never rushed when it came to her assignments. She took her time and made sure they were completely perfectly and thoroughly, which was the opposite of how Misaki approached work. Work was not fun, and so she would blow through it as quickly as she could so she could move onto something more entertaining.

She flipped her pen through her fingers, a trick she'd begged the boys in high school to teach her, and looked around for the TA. He was circling the room, making sure everyone was focusing on their own test, but it was all a facade. His gaze would always be glued back to Keiko, and the weird vibe he often gave off would intensify. She pursed her lips, observing him. Her perception had always been a point of pride for her; it was almost like a supernatural sixth sense. She could guess what a person was thinking or feeling based on the subconscious little things that they'd do. Every twitch of the eyebrow, every curl of the lip, every flutter of eyelash told her a thousand things about a person. She was a bitch to play poker with, but she normally used her powers for good. She squinted at the TA, reading his movements. His shoulders were stiff, his hands balled into fists at his side, his jaw hardset. There was no mistaking the rage he felt, no. . . it was more than that. It was pure, unmitigated hatred. She turned her gaze back to Keiko, wondering just what she had done to piss him off so badly. Did they know each other previously?Keiko had always struck her as a fairly kind, albeit aloof, person. She couldn't imagine her doing anything to warrant that level of hatred. But what she'd seen was unmistakable, and as she turned her attention back to the TA, she started when she found him staring at her. His eyes were dark, foreboding, and she quickly turned back to her own test, a cold sweat dripping down her back.

She answered the open response slowly, each letter drawn painfully perfect in order to allow Keiko to catch up. Normally she'd breeze through the tests and leave; the TA couldn't exactly follow Keiko if there were other students in the room, but the hatred she'd felt from him had terrified her, and she didn't feel safe leaving Keiko to fend for herself. It was annoying though, and after a while she nudged Keiko under the table with her foot. On the edge of her paper she wrote, 'Hurry up. Something isn't right. ' before quickly erasing it. Keiko nodded, imperceptibly, picking up her pace. Eventually the two girls passed their work in, Misaki first and Keiko a few minutes after to avoid suspicions of cheating, and then Misaki whisked her away into the hall.

"What's wrong?" Keiko whispered as Misaki pulled her long.

"The TA. . . at first I thought he was just in love with you," Misaki mumbled, looking behind her as if she were afraid he was standing right there. "I thought he just wanted to get close to you in like, a creepy romantic way. But no. . . he was upset with you. Like. . . more than upset, really angry."

Keiko looked behind them uncertainly.

"What did you do to that guy?Did he like, confess his love to you and you shot him down?I know you already have a boyfriend but like. . ."

"No, I haven't spoken to him outside of class before," Keiko said. She sighed miserably. "I really wish I could talk to Yusuke. He'd know what to do."

Yusuke Urameshi was Keiko's mysterious boyfriend. How someone as plain Jane as Keiko had managed to score a boyfriend was beyond Misaki, but she really wasn't in any position to judge. Going by how Keiko's features softened, though, she and Yusuke had been an item for a while and were fairly serious about one another. Normally, every night around seven o'clock, their dorm room phone would ring, and Keiko would spend about an hour talking to him. For the last few weeks, however, the call hadn't come. Keiko had claimed it had to do with his job; sometimes it took him far away where he couldn't contact her, but she was still worried nonetheless. When Misaki could wrangle a conversation out of her roommate, it always ended up on Yusuke. And when it did, Keiko would fall suspiciously silent. It made Misaki wonder if he were in the government and his work was classified. It'd make sense as to why Keiko would dodge all of her questions.

"For now we should do our best to avoid him," Misaki declared. "There's really not much we can do. It's not like we can go to campus security and tell them that the TA is creepy. No. . . we'll have to wait and see for now."

"I hate this," Keiko muttered, and Misaki agreed with her.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, however Misaki still couldn't banish the morning from her mind. She checked in on Keiko as often as she could, taking frequent bathroom breaks in order to walk by her classroom. Only once did she see the TA in the same hall, but he had fled as soon as he was spotted. It set off warning bells, and as soon as her class was over she bolted to Keiko's class. Physically, Misaki was tall, but in no ways intimidating. She wasn't sure what protection her presence could offer, but it made her feel better. There was safety in numbers, after all.

It wasn't until later that night when shit hit the fan.

Keiko and Misaki had been rushing down to the dining hall in order to grab some food before they started packing everything away when they ran into the TA again. This was curious, as men were not allowed on campus after a certain time, and it was well past that time. More curious, he was in the foyer of their dorm building, which certainly wasn't allowed. The two had exchanged a wordless look, then Misaki had grabbed Keiko by her arm and pulled her down a hall. The two slipped out through a side door, the one that Misaki often snuck into when she was out past curfew, and ran around the side of the building. Huffing, she turned to Keiko and said, "Now we go to campus police."

The Campus Police office was located inconveniently far from the dorms. They needed to cross almost the entire campus without being seen, and as they crept around the front of the building they watched as the TA went running out of the front doors. Misaki gasped, but Keiko clasped a hand around her mouth before he heard and pulled her further into the shadows.

"He's going to block our access to the campus police," Keiko muttered.

"Yeah, looks like it," Misaki agreed. "So if he won't let us get there from the inside, we can always go out from the outside. "

"You mean how you and Kaori snuck in last night?"

"Exactly. We can shimmy up the onto the roof of the shed and get out into the gates. That way we can loop around to the main entrance and get to campus police that way. If not, we can at least run out into the city and find help there. "

"Good plan. "

Sneaking to the storage shed was easier than she'd expected. Apparently the TA had grown suspicious, and right before they dropped down to the other side of the fence, they saw him wandering around the campus. He spotted them just as they were on the other side and came jogging up, but at that point Misaki had grabbed Keiko's hand and launched them across the street. There was no thought of going back to campus as they bolted down the sidewalk.

"What do we do now?" Keiko cried from behind her. Misaki didn't answer. Her plan for right now was to get as far away from the campus as they could, then find help. Her mind had really stopped thinking. She'd never been good at adapting, and even as they raced along her mind was more concerned with her plan failing then crafting a new one.

As they rounded an intersection, a figure stepped out, and the two girls screeched to a halt. The TA was standing before them calmly, and whatever grip Misaki had on her panic slipped from her grasp as she felt herself pale. Keiko kept her wits about her, though, and tugging on Misaki's hand, the two slowly began to back down the sidewalk.

"Out for an evening walk?" the TA asked as he took a step forward. "It's a little late for that. . . you'll be out long after curfew. "

"We'll be fine, thank you for your concern," Keiko could not hide the anxiety in her voice as she continued to inch them down along the sidewalk. "We're actually headed back now. . . "

"Wait just a moment," the TA drawled. "I wanted to chat with you a little," his eyes flickered towards Misaki, and his intent was clear. He wanted to talk to Keiko alone. Gritting her teeth, Misaki squeezed Keiko's hand tightly, letting her know that going with him wasn't an option. Keiko squeezed it back.

"Then we can talk tomorrow once the campus allows men back in," Keiko said. "Now, if you'll excuse us-"

Before she could finish her sentence, the TA was moving. His hand whipped out faster than Misaki's eyes could follow and grabbed Keiko's arm. Misaki did not shriek, although the sound was virtually bursting through her chest. She launched herself at the TA before her mind caught up to what her body was doing. She grabbed onto his arm, and for a moment remarked at how strong he was. He looked so weak, scrawny, but clutching onto his arm reminded her of hanging off a steel beam. She pulled desperately at his fingers but they would not budge, so she resorted to desperate measures and bit him as hard as she could. It was like biting into toffee, and for a moment she was afraid her teeth would break. The TA howled in pain as he finally released his grip on Keiko as a thick, viscous liquid poured into Misaki's mouth. She let go and spit, noting for a moment a dark black stain on her hand before the TA swiped at her.

The hit was enough to send her flying back into a nearby alley and have her seeing stars. She smashed into a trashcan before skidding on the concrete, ripping the back of her shirt and leaving a nasty road rash. She could hear Keiko screaming, but everything sounded so far away, as if it was muffled, and her vision was so blurry. She couldn't tell if her glasses had been knocked off or if it was because of the hit. Slowly, and excruciatingly painfully, she raised herself on her elbows and felt her face for her glasses. They'd been knocked askance, but thankfully not off, but her vision remained doubled as she stumbled to her feet. At the end of the alley she could see the TA holding Keiko by the throat, dangling her feet several inches off the pavement as the muscles in his arms bulged. He looked different somehow, larger, more intimidating, more muscular. And were those horns?It was probably the concussion, Misaki told herself. She didn't have any time to dwell on it, however. Currently there was a maniac strangling her roommate, and they hadn't even had the chance to have their first slumber party yet. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she stumbled down the alley, steadying herself against the wall.

The demon flexed his fingers experimentally, and Keiko made a strange, gurgling noise. Misaki was running again. Running with no plan, and suddenly she was before the monster and she was kicking him. Her foot flew out as hard and as fast as it possibly could, cracking straight into the demon's knee. Her bones splintered, and even through her high she could feel an unbelievable surge of pain lace up through her leg. It did its job, though, and the demon dropped Keiko into a heap on the ground. Now what?Keiko was breathing, but she wasn't moving, and the demon had turned its full attention to her. It was snarling, its hideous fangs protruding from his bottom jaw, saliva spraying down his chin. Everything seemed to be moving as if time had slowed down, and she watched as those disgusting lips said something to her. She didn't hear it over the buzzing in her ears, but she did see the massive ram as it swung a pair of dangerously sharp claws at her. A calm thought broke through her panic. She was going to die here. She only prayed that Keiko was able to make it out alive. She squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath, flinching when a gust of air whipped past her face. She assumed it was the demon's claws getting closer, but after a few moments nothing happened. The world seemed to return to normal. The sounds of the city came back to her in full, deafening force, and she released her breath in a huge gust as she opened her eyes.

The demon was still standing before her, but where his hand had been was now just a bloody stump spraying her with thick, black ichor. The demon looked confused for a moment, staring down at his amputated limb as it spasmed on the ground between the two of them. Then a look of pure rage unlike anything she'd seen before twisted his features. Whatever he had planned next was interrupted when a shadow whipped out from behind, and suddenly his jaw was separated from the top of his head, his eyes and nose and hair landing on the pavement with a sickening squelch. Misaki's knees gave out as the body fell forward, it's strange blood oozing out as her vision faded. A shadow was approaching from behind them and a second later a pair of vibrant green eyes was staring down at her through a shock of red hair. She watched a set of pale lips say something, but she couldn't understand. All she knew was that, despite being broken and in unbelievable pain, whoever had just saved her was smiling like a child on Christmas Day.

A/N: I've been inspired to get back into fanfiction! Yu Yu Hakusho has always held a special place in my heart, and for the longest time I didn't write anything about it because I didn't feel as if I could do it justice. I'm planning to keep this fic updated weekly, though I am a busy adult with many busy adult things. Hopefully, though, this will be the one story I'm able to finish!


	2. Chapter 2: A Spirit World Production

A/N: I apologize for all of the exposition these first few chapters. While I know that most of us are familiar with YYH, Misaki knows nothing about it, so an introduction is necessary. Kurama makes a small appearance in this one, and he'll be the star of the next chapter! In the mean time, please enjoy Misaki's first few, wobbled, steps into the world of the arcane!

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead! The day is wasting away!"

Misaki groaned reflexively, throwing her arm dramatically across her eyes as she groped blindly for her glasses on her bedside table. She hated mornings. She hated mornings with a passion that rivaled the brightness of the morning sun. Mornings could sit on it and spin, as far as she was concerned, but whenever her mother woke her up this way, she'd better get up. The sweet call to consciousness would soon morph into a scream, then the covers would be yanked off of her in one, vicious tug. Once, and only once, did she fight for them and cocoon herself back up into the blissful serenity of sleep. Her mother had returned his a face cloth and smacked her face with it. There was very little worse than being woke up with a cold, wet, facecloth. Her fingers skittered across the table, annoyed that she hadn't immediately located her glasses. Perhaps she'd left them on her desk across the room? She did that sometimes when she stumbled in last at night. But then again, her alarm clock didn't seem to be here, either, and she hadn't knocked off the glass of water she usually kept at her bedside. Her fingers brushed against something sharp, and her hand recoiled as her memories returned to her like a flood of muddy waters. She and Keiko had been attacked, she'd been thrown as if she were made of feathers. Dark blood, red hair...had that all really happened? Her head felt fuzzy as she slowly opened her eyes. Even in the blurry mess of colors she could make out the shapes of get-well-soon cards, a bouquet of flowers, a teddy bear, and a single rose, which is what she had pricked her finger on.

"Here you are," the voice that had woken her up was cheerful, and the cold, steel, frames of her glasses were pressed into her palm. "Please try and take it easy, Misaki. That demon hit you very hard. In fact, I'm surprised you weren't in worse shape; you were very, very lucky. You had a pretty severe concussion, and even with my tricks I was only able to heal it so much. The rest of it should go away naturally on its own in a few days, but until then you'll need to be careful. No more head injuries, you hear?"

The hospital room swam into focus and Misaki blinked into the blinding, sterile light. There was a nurse standing by the door, an old-fashioned nurse anyway. She wasn't wearing the scrubs that modern nurses wore, but instead a white dress with a white apron, and a hat with a red cross perched on top of a long, blue, ponytail. The woman slid the lock of the door into place, completely unaware of the confusion that convulsed through Misaki.

"Your foot, however, is an entirely different story," she continued as she crossed the room and drew the blinds over the window. "That kick nearly turned it to dust. Poof!" She splayed her fingers out as if it were an anatomically correct enactment of her foot's powderization. "They had to put pins in. Your doctors don't think it'll heal entirely...oh, don't look at me that way! Yukina will take a look at you and you'll be right as rain by the end of the day!'

"Who are you?' the incredulity in her voice could not be hidden. Even with her glasses on the world was still spinning, her head a throbbing mess of aches and pains that laced through her temples and sinuses and all along the back of her neck. The woman's vibrant nature was jarring, and while kindness was certainly appreciated, this familiarity was off putting.

"My name is Botan," she said, winking a beautiful, pink, eye at her. "Forgive me for not introducing myself sooner. I've been keeping an eye on you over the last few days so it feels like we've already met! I'm a good friend of Keiko and a colleague of Yusuke's. My boss sent me here to explain a few things about what happened to you a few nights ago. I'm sure you're brimming with questions, and I'm hear to answer them as best I can." She paused, then added, "Also...if anyone asks, the story we've decided to go with is that you've been hit by a car. Try not to say anything about the demon, okay? We need to get you out of her and to Genkai's Temple as soon as possible, and we can't have everything held up for a psych evaluation."

Misaki blinked, the information sweeping past her like a tornado. She felt like she'd just watched the roof of her house get swept away in the twisted, and the second she breathed a sigh of relief, she saw another one churning on the horizon. In fact, it was like a string of whirlwinds headed her way, and even through the haze that she found herself in Misaki could tell that this was going to be a very long day.

"How long was I out for?"

"Close to a week," Botan answered. "I suppose being around Yusuke and Kuwabara has made me forget just how fragile humans really are. Your head injury was actually that severe. In fact, your doctors didn't think you were ever going to wake up and were discussing with your parents about life support options."

"My parents are here?"

"They're staying at a hotel nearby. No worries, we haven't bumped into each other yet."

Perhaps Botan misread that, but Misaki felt relief at knowing her parents were her. They were very busy people; a professor and a researcher could often be found traveling the world together, visiting universities and labs in their pursuit of knowledge. Misaki found that most of her childhood had been spent alone, not that she particularly minded. It just meant that she threw the best house parties. Plus, they were far from neglectful; in fact, they were as loving as parents could be, and there was comfort that could be found in the fact that they were nearby. Something about being with her parents made her feel that everything was going to be okay, no matter what.

"How did I wake up, then?"

"My assistance, of course," Botan smiled. "While my healing abilities aren't anywhere close to Yukina's, I do have a few tricks up my sleeve. I was able to heal you as much as I safely could. Brain injuries are tricky, so we did what we could to get you out of danger. It's the main reason why we didn't erase your memories. Kurama was afraid that adding any more stress to your mind would permanently break it, and so he argued with Lord Koenma until he backed down." She gave Misaki an appraising look. It wasn't unkind, but curious, as if she'd been approached by someone else's child covered in glitter and were simply thinking, 'I wonder where he got all that glitter from?'

Misaki tried to sit up, however the pain in her leg was immeasurable. It shot in electric waves right up through into the core of her body, and with a hiss and gave up the endeavor. Botan was at her side in an instant, searching through the white sheets until she found a remote control attached to the bed by a thick, curly wire. She hit a button, and slowly the bed tilted itself until Misaki was sitting upright.

Misaki opened her mouth to ask another question, but Botan cut her off and said, "Before you have any more questions, you should watch this!"

From the folds of her apron Botan produced a video tape. It looked as if it were homemade, the only difference is that the outside cover had some official looking sticker on it. As Botan slipped it out of its sleeve she said, "This video should answer most of the questions you have, although I'm nervous to show it to you. Lord Koenma can be eccentric and I haven't previewed it myself. If you still have questions afterwards, however, I'd be more than happy to answer them for you." She slipped the tape into the VCR and hit the play button before flicking the lights off and taking a seat next to Misaki. An old fashioned countdown blipped onto the screen. 5. 4. 3. 2, "I wish I had some popcorn," the blue-haired woman sighed wistfully, and the film began.

Words flickered to life on the screen but her blazing headache made the characters run into one another. She squinted helplessly, feeling like she had when she first discovered she needed glasses. She almost wanted to ask Botan to read it, but before she could the scene hard cut to a toddler holding a torch high above his head. The camera panned around him as he sucked stoically on a blue pacifier, his strange hat blocking the camera for a second before it zoomed out to show the platform he was standing on. The word "KOENMA" appeared behind him in giant letters. The light of the torch flared, filling the screen with a white that hurt her eyes as the next scene faded into view. The same name appeared again, though now there was some sort of creature inside of the "E," pretending to roar as if it were the lion in the MGM Studios logo. The creature could not come close to such a terrifying roar, however, and settled on meowing pathetically a few times. Besides her Botan sighed.

"I keep telling Lord Koenma to chance that silly intro," she mumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose. "However he seems oddly attached to it."

"Is that your boss's kid?" Misaki asked, "the toddler?"

Botan smiled knowingly and responded, "That is my boss."

Another question was on the tip of her tongue, but when the TV said her name, she swallowed it. The scene was completely black, save for a single spotlight on a high-backed office chair. "Misaki Takahata. Daughter of Haru Watanabe and Itsuki Takahata. 19 years old, attending _ University for a double major in History and Early Childhood Education. A girl with a slightly higher spiritual awareness than most, but still incredibly average...until a few days ago." The chair spun around. Lord Koenma was sitting there, the same toddler from the intro, his legs crossed and his chubby fingers ripping the armrests. He had a very serious expression on his face. It reminded Misaki of when her young cousins would come up to her with some 'end of the world' problem for her to solve.

'Misaki,' he would say, his tiny face dark, 'I pooped my pants.'

'Uh...let's go get your mom.'

But Koenma's seriousness didn't have the same, lighthearted effect. His words did not match the speech patterns of a child. His intonation and mastery of language was far beyond that, and Misaki struggled to take it all in. Hell, if there were demons, why not have boss toddlers whose employees consisted of overly chipper blue-haired ladies with healing magic?

"I'd like to begin by saying that you, Misaki Takahata, has normal and mundane as you are, have been allowed to breach into a world far beyond your imagining. It will not be a kind transition, I am afraid. This world is as dangerous as it is awesome, and I guarantee that you will be scared and confused by most of it. However, there is no other choice; you must either learn about the Spirit World in order to protect yourself, or close your ears and eyes and become a victim of it. You're in the thick of it now."

"Oh, so dramatic," Botan dismissed at her side. "Don't listen to him. The Spirit World isn't all that scary."

However the images from last night returned to her in full force, and as she watched the rest of the prologue, her hands twisted nervously into the bed sheets. Dread filled ever fiber of her body as the scene's background lightening brightened, revealing an office of sorts. Next to the chair was a large screen, and behind it were more of those strange creatures from the intro, rushing back and forth with stacks of paperwork, occasionally yelling something to each other. Their voices, however, were muted. Every so often one of the creatures would pass through the screen as if it were a hologram, hold a file up to the toddler. He would stamp it, all while maintaining his dialogue, then send the creature away with an irritable wave of his hand.

"What I am about to tell you is confidential," the toddler continued. "You cannot, under any circumstances, reveal to anyone what you are about to hear primarily for two reasons." He held up a single finger. "The first is that no one will believe you. In fact, I'm almost certain that you're going to have enough trouble believing this all yourself. But it's best not to confide in people who are not in the know, unless the prospect of spending the rest of your days locked up in a loony bin is appealing to you."

"Lord Koenma!" Botan exclaimed. That's cruel!"

"The second reason," Koenma held up another finger," is that if you tell your loved ones you will be putting them in unbelievable danger. The lure of the spirit world is incredibly strong for some and without a proper guide there is a high chance that they will fall victim to demons and magic and all sorts of nastiness. So, for the time being, you are forbidden from speaking about this to anyone not involved."

Lord Koenma went on to officially introduce himself as the acting regent of the Spirit World, the realm of the dead. The video was paused here as Misaki asked how in the world a toddler could run the afterlife. Botan did her best to explain, letting slip that she was a River Styx pilot, and then did her best to consult Misaki as she became convinced that Botan was after her soul and she was really dead. Once that whole fiasco was dealt with, and Misaki was sitting on her bed as far away from Botan as she physically could, the video resumed play. The explanations blended together from that point on, and Misaki felt as if she was lost in a misty labyrinth. Behind him on the screen, images of demons, spirits, scientific diagrams of reiki within the human body, battles of epic proportions, landscapes of the demons and spirit world, flashed past like a tsunami. He told her about Yusuke, Keiko's boyfriend, and just how he'd become involved in all of this mess, and how he'd become the next generation of Spirit World's detectives. Then, as if it were a sports game, it showed a title card with Yusuke's picture, depicting his blood type, his general height and weight, his favorite pastime, his likes and dislikes. It was bizarre. It then went on to introduce Kuwabara, then Hiei, and then at last Kurama.

There was no mistaking the color of his hair of those emerald eyes.

"He's the guy who saved my life," she whispered as Koenma rattled off some of Kurama's long history. She caught the words fox spirit, Youko Kurama, Forlorn Hope, human mother, but it was like zoning in and out of a college lecture. She simply stared at his image, transfixed by his emerald gaze.

He was a lot more girly than she'd thought.

"Yes, I'm sure you'll be meeting Kurama very soon," Botan said. "It was very fortunate that Kurama was in the area at the time. Things could have ended much worse had he not been there."

"I owe him my life," Misaki was dazed, and Botan placed a comforting hand over hers. She did not recoil, as the reality that she had nearly died last night sunk in. At the time, she'd been in shock and in too much pain to understand what was happening to her, but seeing he picture of her rescuer had shaken loose the emotions that she'd refused to face at the time. A few tears trickled down her cheeks. What would her mother have done? Her father? How big would her funeral have been? Who would have gone? When she was younger she used to entertain such thoughts in an attempt to answer the question of who really cared for her. But now that she'd come to close to such a reality the exercise didn't seem very fun anymore. The what-if's consumed her, and it was only when Botan silently passed her a handkerchief and squeezed her hand tightly in her own that Misaki remembered where she was. She was in the hospital and she was safe for now. She took a deep, stuttering breath, and elected not to think about it anymore.

"Do you want me to pause the video?" Botan's voice was soft and soothing for the first time.

"No...let's just get this travesty over with," Misaki steeled herself.

The next part of the video showed all of the team's accomplishments. It showed the Four Saint Beasts and the Makai Insect infestation. Misaki's heart leaped into her throat when she watched as Botan dragged a terrified Keiko away from a group of possessed humans. It moved on to rescuing Yukina, and it touched briefly on her relation to Hiei. Botan paused the movie here to impart on Misaki that she should never, ever, ever, ever reveal to anyone that Yukina was his sister. Hiei, she said, was a very scary guy. From there it went on to the challenge by Younger Toguro, then the Dark Tournament. Sensui and the psychics, which sounded like a band name if Misaki's honest opinion were to be asked. At last it wrapped up with the Tournament of the Three Kings, which happened only a short time ago. Koenma went on to speak of Spirit World's corruption, the perversion of demons in order to instill a fear of the demon world into humanity and keep themselves relevant.

"After this tournament, Spirit World struck up a tentative agreement with the Demon King and agreed to remove the Kekkai Barrier, a magical wall that prevented Demon World denizens from coming over into the human world. Without the barrier, passage could be done freely, which was also troubling since a lot of demons harbored a hatred for humanity, even without my father interfering. So we made up a vetting process. Mukuro and her people would patrol the border of the spirit world for any humans that accidentally fall over, and perform in depth background checks on all candidates seeking to live in the human world. In order to help them transition, psychics began offering up their homes as half-way houses to aid in their assimilation into society. Which brings us to the present." Koenma's brow darkened and a new video began to play on the screen.

The video itself was from a closed caption camera in a warehouse. It was grainy, and in the dark light it was difficult to make out what was happening far below. There were two shadows, and it looked as if one was pointing a finger at the other. The taller of the two spread his arms out as if asking for a hug, and then the smaller figure charged at him. The movement was so fast that it looked as if he'd teleported, the frames of the camera unable to keep up with such speed, but it wasn't quick enough. The taller figure disappeared into dust, which the other shadow held for a minute before disappearing from the warehouse altogether.

"For months now Mukuro has been tracking a demon that slipped over the border. He's known to be violent and has an unerring hatred of humans. He's also incredibly dangerous. Every group Mukuro sent out has disappeared, and with her best agent on a top secret mission of his own, she had not choice but to contact me and ask for assistance. I sent out Yusuke, but as you saw the demon, Suna, managed to escape. It was only after what happened to you and Keiko that I began to understand what had happened. He knew quite a bit about Yusuke's life. In fact, he even knew where Keiko's parents lived and where she went to school, and so it's our understanding that the demon who attacked you was working with Suna."

A new image flashed onto the screen. It was another title card, however this time most of the information was absent, except the name Suna. He looked like a tall, willowy man with long blonde hair and sand colored eyes. Even in this still, digital version, his eyes seemed to change color; it went from the soft southern beaches to the deep gold of the north and every shade in between. But they were cold, unfeeling and they cut through Misaki causing her to shiver.

"Yusuke was on his way to Keiko after Suna disappeared," Koenma went on, "it was unbelievably fortunate that Kurama was in the area at the time and was able to intervene before the two of you were killed." Koenma's mouth twisted into a tight frown and Botan laughed.

"Kurama is a very mysterious guy," she snickered, "he plays his cards close to his chest. No matter how hard Lord Koenma pokes, he can't get any further explanation out of him."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Kurama has no business in that part of the city," Botan said. "In fact, he lives and works clear across from your college, and aside from Keiko there really is no reason as to why Kurama would be there."

"Do you think he was up to something?"

"Oh, goodness, no," Botan shook her head vehemently. "Kurama has been nothing but a valuable asset to Spirit World. Despite his troubled past, he always comes through when it matters and lends a helping hand whenever he can. He's incredibly reliable."

"Misaki," Koenma called, and Misaki returned her attention to the screen. A look of pity was blazoned across his expression; regret sat in every curve of his face and for a moment he appeared as if he were much, much older than he let on. "I deeply regret that there was nothing we could do to safely remove your memories. The world that you are now in is a cold and cruel one. My only advise to you is to keep your wits about you and rely on your friends as much as you can. Do not feel as if you have carry this burden alone."

With that the video faded into the credits. Misaki grasped at them like a life line and noticed that all of the credit seemed to go to an ogre named Jorge. Lighting, Filming, Editing, Catering, Jorge seemed to be the man. She decided she liked Jorge. Jorge knew how to get things done and piece together one hell of a horror story. Koenma's parting words had left a chill down her spine and part of her wished that this was all some elaborate, off-color, joke. Demons? Spirits? The thought was absolutely preposterous, and yet she could not deny what she had experienced. She could not blot out the image of Keiko in the stands of a demon tournament. She could not ignore the stench of the demon as she kicked it. Botan stood and crossed over to the lights, popping them back on before removing the tape from the VCR and securing it in her apron pocket.

"It's a lot to take in, I know," she sighed. "While you were unconscious we had several meetings about what to do with you, and we decided that this was the best option. If we lived in a perfect world you could have gone back to your old life without any problems..." Botan pulled the blinds open and Misaki flinched as light flooded into the room. Her head shrieked with agony and she squeezed them shut even though it did little to help. "I suspect that they'll release you in a few hours. I'll meet you downstairs with a car and take you to Genkai's Temple. Yukina should be able to fix you up there."

Botan slid open the window and jumped up onto the ledge. With a little wave she dived out, and Misaki's heart leaped with her. She reflexively lunged forward, wondering if the Spirit World always sent messages in the form of kamikaze reapers, but a moment later a bob of blue hair floated up past the window. Botan reappeared, now dressed in a pink kimono and sitting side saddle on an oar. She winked and said, "I'll be waiting for you when you're done!" The oar hovered a few feet further into the open air because speeding away into the blue sky. Misaki watched her go, sinking slowly back down into her pillows.

Misaki shut her eyes and tried to digest everything she'd just learned. It was leaving her with an awful case of mental indigestion. Demons were real. She'd just watched a girl fly away on an oar. Her roommate, plain, dour, studious, utterly unremarkable in every way, was apart of it all. A sudden realization dawned to her. Maybe Keiko had been pushing her away not because of who Misaki was as a person. Her let-it-go attitude and propensity to enjoy a good party hadn't been what kept her roommate at arm's length, but rather her involvement with the Spirit World. Had Keiko even uttered a word of this to her a week ago she'd have thought her roommate was nuts. Just like Koenma had said. She pressed her hands in to her eyes in an attempt to assuage the pounding in her skull. She couldn't tell anyone about this. She had to start pushing everyone away.

Poor Kaori...

Misaki wondered how Keiko had handled it all when she found out about Yusuke. Had she broken down? Had she handled it with grace? Probably the latter, if Misaki knew anything about her. She'd smiled and placed her absolute faith in Yusuke and the tale he was spinning for her, trying her best to understand the world he was apart of because he was important to her. She had only caught a very one-sided glimpse of their relationship but it was enough to guess that Keiko and Yusuke's love ran far deeper than an average relationship. Keiko had learned to live and deal with spirits and demons because it meant she got to be with the person she adored.

If only Misaki had the same advantage. She instinctively rallied against the thought of buying into all of this so readily. It was too ridiculous. It scared her. She wanted to avoid it, get rid of it, just like she did with anything that was even remotely uncomfortable in her life. Why wear a pair of shoes if they gave you blisters, after all. She stared down at her foot, suspended as it were over the bed by a few nylon straps. She tried to wiggle her toes but they would not move. She'd broken her leg before, once, when she was a kid, and she'd still been able to wiggle her toes. The fact that she couldn't now numbed her. She could not deny the damage that had been done to her. A head injury so severe that the doctors thought she'd be in a coma for the rest of her life, and a foot so injured that that the bones resembled flour. She could not deny these things, just as she could not deny the fact that she'd just watch a woman fly out of her hospital window on an oar. Just as she could not deny that she had watched a creature with blood as black as pitch be decapitated with the ease of a warm knife through butter.

Kurama's green eyes flashed before her own, merging with the images she'd seen on the video, and Misaki's own eyes snapped open with the hope that the sterility of the room would wash the vision away. His expression had been so out of place when he'd saved them. Joy...how could anyone possibly feel happy in a situation like that? Relief, maybe, at having saved his friend's girlfriend from imminent demise, but he'd been smiling like a man in love. It was weird, and both Botan and Koenma had commented on it. Kurama had been surprisingly tight lipped, it seemed, and whatever his intentions were was enough to rouse suspicion. Or maybe she'd just been seeing things? She'd been thrown pretty hard and it wasn't completely impossible that she hadn't simply imagined it. But it was so vivid...Misaki took a deep breath and began to slowly count backwards from 100. There was no use in thinking about it now. All she'd succeed in doing was working herself up; she had question that nobody but Kurama could answer.

When she felt better, she opened her eyes and looked at the gifts on her bedside table. She began sorting through them, reading the cards from friends and families, stuffing her face with some of the chocolate that somebody had left. At last she came to the rose and picked it up. Despite the fact that it was not in water, it was very real. The petals were soft and delicate as she ran her finger over them, and the thorns along the stems were viciously sharp. None of the cards had eluded to it, and when the doctor came in to check on her they claimed they did not know who'd left it. Still, it felt special, and she found herself clutching onto it as the nurses ran some last minute tests. They fitted her for a pair of crutches and showed her the x-ray of her foot. The before hadn't been too far off from Botan's description; poof. The after showed a cobbled together system of nails and bone fragments.

The doctor might as well have been talking to a wall, as Misaki was consumed by the x-ray. Something was said about nerve damage, Something was said about considering amputation. Something about prosthetics having come a long way. Something about her decision. Nothing registered with her. These important things, things about herself, bounced off of her like water on a car window. It slid right off, trailing damply through her overworked brain as the minutes slipped past. Soon she was standing outside with very little memory of how she'd gotten there. Her bag of gifts hung loosely over her arm as she leaned heavily against her crutches. The rose was tucked in the front pocket of her shirt, the thorns poking at her through the fabric. The pain was comforting, in a weird way. It reminded her that she was still kicking.

She was only out there for a few minutes, watching as people and traffic passed by her before a sleek black car pulled up to the curb. Botan popped out, now dressed as if she were a chauffeur, complete with fake mustache. Misaki appreciated her dedication to accuracy and hobbled over. With some effort she was bundled into the passenger seat, and soon after they were speeding off towards Genkai's Temple.

"Keiko is already there, if you're curious," Botan chattered as she merged onto the highway, her foot catching the accelerator hard as Misaki was launched into the back of her seat. "She packed some of your things for you as well."

"What if I don't want to go to Genkai's? What if I just want to go home?"

Botan watched Misaki from the corner of her rose-gold eyes, her lips drawn into a tight frown. "I'm sorry, but for now you don't have a choice," she said sympathetically. Her voice was tinged with sadness, and crossing her arms, Misaki turned towards the window. "Genkai's Temple is the safest place for you and Keiko at the moment. At least until we get this Suna business settled." S he paused, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. "Besides, being surrounded by people from the demon world will help you acclimate to it! You'll be able to freely ask any questions you might have. Honestly...I don't know what Lord Koenma was trying to achieve with all that doom and gloom talk. In fact, some of the demons I know are even kinder than most of humanity, I'd wager. They're really not that bad at all."

That was hard to believe considering that Misaki had just been thrown around like a paper airplane by one, but she didn't have the energy to argue anymore. She barely had the energy to do anything, and instead sank deeper into her sear, surrendering herself to the fact that for the time being she was powerless. She hated feeling this way. Misaki was always in control. She was the one that laid out the battle plan, that gathered the troops, that executed their movements from bar to bar with a synchronization that would make synchronized swimmers jealous. She felt as if she had fallen into a river and was being bashed against all the rocks as she rocketed downstream. She was being carried along with the current, and she hated it.

The city slipped away in the side-view mirror and in no time at all they were whizzing through the countryside. Misaki watched it all miserably, like a child leaving a toy store empty handed. In the shadows of the window she could see her own reflection, and for once her outsides matched just how she was feeling on the inside. Misaki could be having the worst possible day of her life and would still meet people with a smile. Her own problems were not for other people. She could handle them herself, and only rarely did her carefully crafted appearance crack. Her hair was a mess and she suddenly regretted cutting it short. It twisted and curled and frizzed into a thousand cowlicks, and it would take more than a brush and straightener to tame that mess. She had deep purple circles under her eyes, and there wasn't much she wouldn't do for her concealer. She'd kill someone, she wagered, for a makeup blender and some foundation. She honed in on her appearance, picking out every flaw on her face, every uneven spot of skin and emerging pimple. It was the only thing she had control of at the moment. When her mind had stopped whirring, her shallow thoughts pushing out anything substantial, she drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

When she awoke the countryside had sprouted into a massive forest and Botan was humming along to the radio.

"Oh, you're awake!" she exclaimed. "It's cruel, you know, leaving a girl all by herself on such a long drive. Aren't road trips the quintessential girl bonding time? I suppose I'll forgive you this time, though; you've been through so much this week. How are you feeling?"

"Better," Misaki mumbled, stretching her arms far above her head and cracking her neck. She hated falling asleep in cars because she always woke up sore, but the nap had done her some good and she felt ready to face whatever waited for her at Genkai's Temple. "And sorry about that."

"No worries, no worries," Botan brushed her off. "I was only teasing. Anyway, we're only a few minutes away."

"What can I expect when we get there?"

"Stairs."

"What?"

Botan laughed and went on. "Genkai's Temple was the first to offer itself up as a half-way house for demons. Before that it was a place where psychics could train in peace, but now demons flock here in order to blend in with human society. Some of them do still train here, though, and whenever the spirit detectives have a free moment they always come up here to whack each other around."

"Will anyone from the video be there?"

Botan pouted her lips thoughtfully. "Well, Yusuke will be there with Keiko, obviously. After what just happened I doubt you'll ever find him too far away from her any time soon. Kuwabara said he was cramming for his midterms but he'll be over as soon as they're over. It's so strange...Kuwabara used to be one of the biggest delinquents and now he's an example student. I feel like a proud mom."

"One minute they're shitting themselves out the back of their diapers and the next they're shitting themselves in college. My, how time flies."

"I know, right? Soon he'll be shitting himself as a fully functioning adult," Botan giggled. "Anyway, Hiei has been on a top secret mission for Mukuro, and he rarely comes around anymore. He really only pops in to see Kurama. Oh! And Kurama will be arriving later on tonight. He said he wanted to check in on his mother before making his way here."

So she'd get to meet Kurama today. The prospect made unnameable emotions swell up in her chest. What did you say to the person who saved your life? Was he a nice guy? Would they get along? More importantly, the burning question that had stuck with her since their first meeting; why had he looked so happy when he'd saved her? The thought of getting a chance to ask him filled her with anxiety, and she nervously played with the hem of her sweater, oblivious to the fact that Botan was watching her carefully.

"I've actually been meaning to ask you about Kurama," Botan started slowly, and Misaki quirked a brow.

"Yellow."

"Pardon?"

"Sorry, someday the answer to that question will be yellow. In truth, I really don't know anything about him aside what was shown on that video."

"I see...whenever he came to visit you in the hospital he just seemed...I don't know...so familiar with you? Like you'd known each other forever. I mean, it's hard to tell but it felt like he's met you before."

"I think I'd remember seeing someone like Kurama. He doesn't exactly blend into the crowd...now, the first time I saw him was when he saved us."

Botan pointed at the rose that was resting in Misaki's lap. In all honesty she'd forgotten it was there. She picked it up and twirled it delicately in between her fingers.

"That's Kurama's handiwork," Botan explained, "and that's no ordinary rose. His specialty is to use his reiki to manipulate plants. My guess is that rose is some sort of trap. If anything threatens you, I'm sure it'll spring up into deadly vines and poisonous pollen or something else like that. Kurama tends to plan for any assault frightfully far ahead. Why, in the Battle of the Three Kings he used a tree that takes a thousand years to spread it's roots. Apparently he'd just gone about scattering those seeds in case he'd needed them when he was younger.

"A thousand...wait, just how old is Kurama?" The man in the video only looked a few years older than she did, and if he had to check on his mother...how old was she?

Botan shrugged. "His human body is only about twenty-two, but his spirit is much older. In fact, I'm fairly certain that he's older than Lord Koenma, though he likes to keep his real age to himself."

"How old is Lord Koenma?"

"625."

"And how old are you?"

"Now, it's rude to ask a lady her age, you know," Botan winked as she artfully dodged the question.

"Well, I'd say you don't look a day over 20," Misaki leaned back in her chair. "In fact, with the right outfit I bet you could pass as a high schooler. Anyway, what was it you said earlier about stairs?"

The car pulled onto a long, abandoned road. Weeds cracked through the pavement of the sidewalks, and despite the street's considerable size there were no shops, houses, or businesses along its perimeter. At the end was a dead end, capped with perhaps the biggest staircase Misaki had ever laid eyes on. She craned her beck inside of the car trying to see the top, however the crumbling steps disappeared into the woods that crowded in from all sides. The dark, gray branches, devoid of leaves this late in the fall, were laced with ropes that hung over the steps, and hanging from them were talismans written in a strange language. Misaki struggled out of the car once it had stopped, swinging her way to the bottom of the stairs and looking incredulously up at them. Botan came up behind her a second later, the bag of gifts on her arm.

Misaki pointed at the stairs. "There is no way in hell that I'm going to make it up there with a broken leg."

"It's alright," Botan chuckled. "We're not going to climb, at least not this time." In a flash of light, her oar appeared in her hand and she hopped onto it. She patted the spot behind her. "Just this once you can catch a ride on the Styx Express! All aboard, choo choo!"

Misaki stared at the oar, then up at the stairs, then back at Botan's smiling face. She didn't mind heights. She liked roller coasters well enough, but climbing onto that oar just seemed dangerous. There were no safety straps, nothing holding her up but a thin stick of wood that had just been materialized out of nowhere. She gave another look at the stairs.

"Just leave me here to die," she said at last.

"Oh, come on!"

Botan grabbed her arm and pulled her onto it. Her crutches fell out of her hands and clanked onto the sidewalk as her legs wrapped instinctively around the oar. Her arms clutched to Botan's waist, her eyes wide as her heart jumped up into her throat.

Botan's laugh was like the sun, but it didn't nothing to warm the fear that had sprung up in Misaki. "Hold on tight," she cried, and then the oar whizzed off into the air.

It was not nearly the breakneck speed that Botan had flown at when she'd left her hospital room, but it was still far faster than what Misaki was comfortable with. She clutched onto Botan for dear life, her eyes squeezed tightly shut as the forest dropped away with her stomach. With a deep breath she worked up the courage to open her eyes and saw the small dot of the car on the asphalt below. They were sailing far above the trees, and from their vantage point Misaki could see a small clearing in the forest. It was a perfect view of the mountain, and if it hadn't been for the frigid air this high up she would have liked to stay longer. Botan made a few more loops, and with each circle they gained a bit more height, the bitter wind blasting her face until it went numb. With a grin, Botan tilted the oar into a dive and Misaki screamed as she became weightless. The reaper whooped with laughter as they plunged back into the trees and landed at the edge of Genkai's Temple.

As far as shrines went, Genkai's Temple was incredibly simple. There weren't any rock gardens or statutes or any other sort of art in the front yard. There wasn't even a shrine, which Misaki thought was typical fare for ancient temples, though she didn't dwell on it too long. She climbed unsteadily off of Botan's oar, her legs quacking as she struggled to stay upright.

"And here we are, Genkai's Temple!" Botan announced, skipping a head a few paces and spreading her arms out in welcome. "Once we get your foot in working order we'll take you on the grand tour. For now, our first stop is Yukina's room!"

Without her crutches, Misaki had to rely on Botan for support. They wound their way along the outside porch until they came to a set of paper doors that felt a bit cooler than the surrounding air. Botan knocked politely and a moment later it slide open, revealing a woman with stunning red eyes and long, blue hair. Misaki wondered, as she stared at the icy locks, if everyone from the spirit world had blue hair.

"Botan, it's good to see you," the woman smiled, then turned to Misaki with a curious look. Once she had given her the once over, her sweet smile returned and she dipped into a small bow. Misaki bowed back. "You must be Misaki. My name is Yukina and Keiko has been telling me all about you since she got here. Please, come inside and let's have a look at you."

Misaki was led inside, her lone shoe abandoned at the door as she was lower gently into a chair. Yukina knelt before her, finger brushing over Misaki's cast. Frost spread from Yukina's fingers and covered the cast as Misaki watched with amazement. She could feel the cold tickling at her leg as the cast hardened until it was completely encased in ice. Yukina gave it a solid thump with the back of her knuckles, and the whole thing broke apart into shards of ice that tinkled like chimes onto the floor. Misaki caught only a glimpsed of mangled, purple flesh before she could not look any longer, turning her head away so quickly that she gave herself whiplash. Botan gasped, and judging by the horror in that little sound her foot was not pretty. Yukina did not seem perturbed, however, and gently ran her fingers along the top of her foot. Even the gentlest touch felt like agony, and Misaki curled her lips into her mouth to prevent from crying out.

"I'm sorry, I know that this must hurt, but I believe I can fix this," she said at last.

"How?" Misaki asked through grit teeth. "The doctors said that it'd never heal."

"Yes well, human medicine is limited. Please try and bear this pain a little while longer." Brows furrowed, Yukina began to channel her energy into Misaki's foot. At first it tingled, as if her foot had merely fallen asleep, which was actually a vast improvement. Before she couldn't feel anything, and the sensation made her feel guilty. But as dying nerves reconnected, tendons sprung from their torn remnants, and the screws the doctors had put in were eaten away by an energy she did not understand, Misaki was hit by an extraordinary pain. Without the adrenaline rush from the initial injury there was nothing to dull the pain, and so Misaki screwed her face up and cried. A warm hand found her own, and Misaki squeezed it until, an eternity later, the sensation turned into an insatiable itch, then nothing at all.

Wiping a bead of sweat off her forehead, Yukina leaned back and smiled. She looked as if she'd just run a marathon, but despite her exhaustion her gentle demeanor was still in place as she instructed Misaki to wiggle her toes. Misaki was delighted when they moved. She rolled her ankle this way and that, inspecting it. There wasn't a bruise left as she stood and slowly put her weigh ton it. It held, and it felt like something had finally gone right for the first time all day.

When the doctors had told her she'd never walk correctly again she hadn't given it much thought. Her mind had been consumed by what she'd learned from Koenma's video. It was like being injured by a chainsaw and then getting a paper cut; it was inconsequential to the fact that she had been thrown into a world were demons were a thing. But now, in a matter of minutes, her injury had been healed and the thought of life without being able to walk properly settled in. She'd come so close to losing one more thing that she had taken for granted, a loss that would further separate her from the familiar world she'd grown to love, and Yukina had returned it towards her. She felt like crying. In fact, a few tears slipped out as she turned and bowed deeply to Yukina. "Thank you...thank you so much."

Yukina giggled. "Please, you have nothing to thank me for."

"Like fuck I don't," Misaki said. "I promise I'll find a way to repay you."

Yukina was in the midst of objecting when the inside door slid open and Keiko stepped into the room. Her eyes fell on the three of them and her face lit up as she threw herself at her roommate, arms wrapping tightly around her. Misaki was taken aback, not used to such huge outpourings of emotions from Keiko. Casual disdain? Yes. A bit of snootiness? Yes. Being hugged as if they were best friends who hadn't seen each other in a few years? Definitely not. Still, seeing a familiar face was a relief, and after a second she gave Keiko a tight squeeze before the girls parted.

"Misaki, you're okay! I'm so glad! I thought," she trailed off, her excitement fighting with the thought of what could have been. Finding the what-ifs too horrifying to voice, she continued, "I'm so happy to see you."

"Yeah, me too," Misaki sighed. "Today has been absolutely insane. Like, demons? Spirits? I flew on an oar?"

Keiko gave Botan a scolding look and Botan returned it with a bubbly smile.

"What, I took it slow," She said. "I was carrying an injured passenger!"

"Uh huh," Keiko didn't seem entirely convinced but nor did she want to pursue the issue further. "For now, let's head to our room. I really want to show you around and help you get settled."

Keiko, Botan, and Misaki left Yukina behind as the ice maiden said she needed to recover her energies. The inside of Genkai's Temple matched the outside only in its spareness. From the exterior it looked like an average temple with two wings and a main house, but inside it was massive. Hallways upon hallways led to different rooms with different purposes. Some had been converted into classrooms to teach demons about some of the things they could expect to find in the human world. Others were reserved for physical training. After what felt like eons they made it to their room, and Misaki knew that she was going to need help finding it until they left; there was no way she'd be able to memorize the whole layout after one trip, never mind two or three.

The three piled into the room and Misaki immediately pounced on her duffle bag resting at the foot of a futon. She dug through it eagerly, picking out her makeup bag among all of her clothes. At the bottom she found her straightener and gave it an exaggerated kiss before kow towing to Keiko.

"Stop that," Keiko said, flushing with embarrassment as she and Botan took a seat on the other futon. "I never see you without your makeup so I figured I'd bring it for you."

"Keiko, I could kiss you right now."

Botan laughed. "You two seem quite familiar with each other."

"Actually, no," Keiko said as Misaki plugged in her straightener and began to clamp her hair in between the metal plates. "We're actually just starting to get to know each other. Misaki just has this overwhelming personality that makes talking to her easy."

"I call it animal magnetism," Misaki shrugged as she let another chunk of hair fall into place. "The guys at the bar call it witchcraft, and the girls all call it 'being a dirty slut.'" She felt better, as if she were a warrior returning to the blacksmith where she'd deposited her broken armor. She couldn't wait to get her foundation on. With it she felt as if she could tackle anything.

While Misaki made herself presentable, Botan recounted the contents of the video that Koenma had made for them, and in return Keiko filled her in about the happenings of the Temple. Keiko was just as upset about the morbid picture Koenma had painted of the Spirit World as Botan was, and soon they were giving their own accounts of the events in the tape. What the girls were saying was a far cry from hat Koenma had told her, however there was still a hint of danger in both retellings. There was danger involved, yes, but the out of it all Keiko and her friends had formed an unbreakable bond. A friendship and love that ran so deep it was difficult to see where it ended flooded between them, and the possibility that Misaki might be let in on such companionship suddenly excited her. Part of her understood why Koenma had wanted to chase her away. There was a lot of violence on a scale unimaginable to her, and she had no way of defending herself. The video was a thinly disguised warning not to dig too deep. Reading between the lines, Koenma said that if she were truly smart she would take what she'd learned and store it away, but the only time she'd draw it out was if she needed to avoid the supernatural.

Misaki shut her eyes as the last lock of hair fell into place. The feel of Yukina's spirit energy on her leg was still fresh in her mind. Sure, the Spirit World had hurt her, but so could anything. She couldn't walk without the risk of falling down. Yes, a demon had attacked her, but Yukina had healed her. She thought about Kurama's rose, tucked safely away in her shirt pocket once more, a silent sentry ready to leap into action the moment anyone tried to hurt her. The Spirit World could protect as well. Misaki felt a hunger she'd never experienced before. She wanted to devour this world, she wanted to learn everything about it that she could. The universe had just proven itself to be a miraculous place and she refused to shut her eyes to it now that they were open. Just as Koenma said, she was in the thick of it now.

In all honestly, she imagined that this was a bit how Harry Potter felt when he found out he was a wizard.

When Misaki was finally done, the girls led her on a complete tour of the temple. She was completely lost within minutes as the twisting halls felt like a labyrinth to her, but she'd caught the gist of it. The eastern wing were mostly bedrooms, with a few at the end reserved for when the old detectives visited, and the western wing consisted of training rooms. Outside, the backyard was much prettier than the front yard, possessing all the rock gardens and trickling streams that the front was lacking. They wound their way back into the forest, and they told her that Genkai's property extended for miles and miles, all the way up to the sea. They were also paths that led to various hidden grottos through the woods, including a swamp that had been the location of several ancient battles, and other hidden gems waiting to be explored. She was cautioned not to go exploring alone, however, since the woods were vast.

The main house, however, was the heart of the compound. It consisted of only four rooms; the kitchen, living room, a shrine, and the arcade. As they stepped into the arcade, Misaki's jaw dropped. It was like a nerd's wet dream as rows upon rows of video games sprawled out before her. Fighting games, punching games, dancing games, karaoke, Genkai's arcade had it all. More startling than the massive selection were the half dozen demons standing among the consoles. Two sat down at a cabinet; a hulking man with a purple mohawk and a seemingly normal boy with three stars painted beneath his eye. Their voices rang in the room as they loudly trash talked each other, their digital avatars kicking and dodging on the screen with each taunt. A young man with feathery black wings was crooning out a soulful tune on the karaoke machine while a young girl with a monkey tail played rock-paper-scissors at such a dizzying speed that the controls were literally smoking.

Misaki looked from face to face, her heart hammering in her chest. These demons were so different from the one that attacked her. There was a humanity in their eyes that Suna's minion had not possessed, and she released a sigh she'd been holding in as they made their way through the arcade.

The door at the back of the arcade opened as they approached and a slip of a woman entered. She was old, decrepit really, her pink hair having faded to a dull gray and her face lined with a crisscross of deep wrinkles. Her eyes first scanned over the group of demons, sharp and calculating like a school teacher checking to see if any children were misbehaving before landing on Misaki. She felt a chill run down her spine as the woman appraised her.

"Master Genkai, this is Misaki Takahata," Botan said, her eyes wide as she urged Misaki to bow. Belatedly, Misaki bent, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at her own rudeness.

"I know who she is, and let her speak for herself," Genkai snapped. Botan's mouth closed with an audible pop. Genkai gave the reaper a heated stare before turning her attention once more to Misaki. She felt as if she were being looked through as the old woman's eyes bored into the top of her head. "Stand up straight, girl you look like an idiot."

Her spine cracked with the speed of how quickly she stood up. There was just something in Genkai's voice that commanded respect.

"So, you're the one who caused all that fuss the other day. You don't look too special to me."

"Misaki saved my life, Master Genkai," Keiko chimed in, her voice on the defensive as she stood at Misaki's side.

"Yes, so I heard. S he ran headlong into a fight she had no chance of winning," Genkai sniffed, her arms crossing over her chest. "She's either stupid or brave."

"Perhaps a little of column A and a little of column B?" Misaki said hopefully. Genkai's lips flashed into a smile that last a millisecond before it was replaced by her usual scowl.

"Just because you've been let in on all of this doesn't mean you're special, girl," Genkai said. Her words were sharp, though they were not said to cut. Everything she spoke was thought out. She did not speak rashly, and Misaki suspected she did not act impulsively either. "Keep your nose out of trouble and you might live to die when you're eighty." With that she turned briskly on her heel and disappeared back through the door she'd come from.

"Master Genkai comes off tough at first," Botan hummed, "however she really means well. She'll warm up to you."

"Warm up? I thought I made a great first impression," Misaki said, and with a laugh Botan slung an arm around her shoulders.

"With that attitude, you'll be a member of the gang in no-time! Now, let's go meet Yusuke, shall we?"

The living room was small and cozy, featuring only a dining room table, and a couch with a few chairs cloistered around a television. The back doors had been opened to allow a crisp breeze to stir the stuffy air of the room. Genkai had retreated to a game console, her fingers whizzing across the controls with an agility impressive for her age. Beside her sat Yusuke. As they entered he threw down his controller and stood, not caring that Genkai continued the game and proceeded to smash to his character of the ledge with a painful finishing move.

"Well, well, well, look who it is," Yusuke grinned as he placed his hands on his hips and stared Misaki down. "The woman of the hour!"

"You must be Yusuke," Misaki replied. "I now completely understand why Keiko looks exhausted ninety percent of the time."

Keiko laughed softly from behind her as she went to sit on the couch.

"Are you saying I'm tiring?"

"A handful, more like it," Misaki said, shaking her head. "Like, no wonder she loses sleep at night."

"And here I was gonna thank you, but you're just gonna insult me. So I guess you can just go fuck right on off then," his words were harsh, but the shit-eating-grin on his face said he didn't mean a word of it.

"I guess I might go and do just that," Misaki tried her best to scowl but could not stop the way her lips quirked up at the corners. "Better to fuck off then hang out with your crusty ass."

"Hey, why don't you say that to my face!"

"Easy now, Yusuke," Botan placed her hands on the spirit detectives shoulders. "She's had a long day."

"And it'll be even longer when I'm through with her!"

The evening passed in this manner. Yusuke and Misaki seemed to get along like a house on fire, much to Keiko's chagrin, and they spent dinner insulting each other and jabbing their chopsticks at one another. Eventually Yukina came down to join them, and whatever reservations Misaki had disappeared. Still, the whole time she was anxious, casting an eye at the door as if Kurama might appear through it. He never did, however, and with a sigh of disappointment, the girls decided to retire to their own rooms. As they got ready for bed, Keiko excused herself, and when she did not return in an hour, Misaki guessed that she was probably spending the night with Yusuke. Not that she blamed her; if she hadn't seen her boyfriend in a few months she'd also went to spend the night with him. Still, it did little for her nerves. While she felt better about this whole spirit world thing, going to sleep in a strange room was always disconcerting, and soon she found herself standing on the back porch, look out into the grounds.

The night fell in shades of gray over the temple, the pale light of the moon casting dark shadows as Misaki leaned against the railing. So much had happened today. Her world view had been flipped on its head and scrambled like an egg in an unfeeling frying pan, and she could do nothing but stand helplessly beside it. She felt fried and drained. And Kurama hadn't shown up before they'd called it a night. She was disappointed. She'd spent the whole afternoon preparing herself for their meeting, for the burning questions she had to ask him. Why was he so familiar with her? And the more she turned that question over, the more she came to realize that the familiarity was not once-sided. Something had struck her when she'd seen his photo in Koenma's video. He seemed familiar, like a safe place. It was like suddenly running into your mom at a grocery store. The unfamiliar setting filled with strangers suddenly became more comfortable by the presence of a single person, but what had Kurama done to warrant such closeness? He'd saved her, yes, but the second she'd laid eyes on him she'd felt as if she'd known him for years.

But she'd never met him before. She was positive of that.

November was always an interesting time of the year. The frogs and bugs that chirped all throughout the summer and late fall fell silent as they burrowed deep into the damp earth. The wind and chill were the only things that howled through the barren trees, and Misaki found beauty in this solemn silence. She listened as the dead leaves skittered like mice across the lawn as if they had some lesson to teach. She felt something twist in her pocket, and she started, removing the rose as it began to twist in her hands. The petals, which had been closed, now opened, revealing the inner folds and releasing the sweetest scent imaginable. The roses that florists sold no longer smelled like this, and she took a deep breath before remembering Botan's warning from early. Was there danger nearby? Her heart stopped beating in her chest as she scanned her surroundings wildly for a threat until she spotted a shadow walking along the perimeter of the temple, moving slowly along the porch. He was closer than she thought, and she took a frightened step backwards.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't mean to startle you." The figure stepped into the light and Misaki found herself unprepared to face Kurama. She took a deep breath, the rose's thorns biting into her fingers as Kurama took another step forward. His gaze was even more piercing in real life, and Misaki found herself drawn to the emerald of his eyes. "Misaki," he all but whispered her name, and Misaki felt as if she'd been struck by lightening. "It's good to see you again."

A/N: Misaki is safe at Genkai's Temple! Although, what will her parents think that she discharged herself from the hospital with such severe injuries? She'll have quite a bit of explaining to do should she ever get the chance. And finally Kurama appears. Misaki has quite a few questions for him, but it seems like the cat (or fox, har har) has got her tongue on this one. Thank you so much to everyone who decided to give this fic a try! I really appreciate the follows, and a big thank you to Glass Dragon's Rose for the first review!


	3. Chapter 3: Oops, I Did it Again

A/N: Misaki had a rough day and to top it all off the mysterious Kurama appeared when she was least prepared for it. Her suspicions about their connection abound as he lets slip (or perhaps he's merely dropping hints?) things about her that he couldn't possibly know. But more pressing issues arise when she realizes that her doting parents have no idea where their severely injured daughter has been whisked away to, and so begins her careful walk on the tight-rope between her old life and her new one.

Kurama's words were ringing through her ears again. "Again." The word echoed through her mind, bouncing off the inside of her skull like a fly on a pane of glass, and try as she might she simply could not catch it. The way he'd spoken her name had been like a hymn; softly, reverently, beautifully, as if this were the thousandth time he'd said it. There was no fumbling with it like someone struggling to remember if for the first time, no awkward litlt to the syllables as they matched the name to their own speech. It had fallen, instead, like a wisp of silk, smooth and cool, and It washed away whatever thoughts had been scrambling through her head. Misaki swallowed heavily as Kurama took another step forward, the light shed by the open door casting pale light over the curve of his smile.

It's good to see you again.

Again.

Again.

What the hell did he mean by that?

The words dried up on her tongue even as shen thought them, her mouth feeling as if she'd just chowed down on chalk, and she averted her gaze to the rose that she worried with her hands. It was still blooming, its petals open and vibrant as if the prescence of its master had breathed spring into it. Spring in the middle of November; only roses in greenhouses could bloom when it was in the single digits outside. So it was a special rose, though Botan had already hinted at that. She wondered what would happen if he walked away. Would the petals close, or would they simply wilt?

Her breath fogged the air in front of her as she desperately searched for something to say. The questions had sprung from the bedrock of her mind and whirred in dizzying circles through her head, and no matter how high she jumped or how quickly she moved, she could not grab ahold of one. There were too many things she needed to know, too many things she had to ask him that she simply didn't know where to start. Would she do the civil thing and greet him as if he were just a stranger? Or should she lay into him about their unfounded familiarity? Should she ask the heavy-hitting questions first? Part of her was afraid of what his answers might be, so her tongue tied itself into a knot and sat heavily in her jaw.

In her panic she defaulted to her usual; collecting every bit of data she had gleaned about Kurama from the past few days. Sadly, it wasn't much. Mysterious, clever, strategic was about the gist of what she'd learned, and the underwhelming amount of information she had on him was frustrating. She knew nothing about the man standing before her and it made her nervous. This social paralysis never happened when she met new people, and the fact that it had her in its grasp now was perplexing. Maybe she was just starstruck? This man had saved her life, and she had no idea how she was supposed to act around him; should she simply thank him and call it a day or pledge her life to him? The latter seemed a bit dramatic, though the thought of collapsing into a kowtow and promising him her firstborn child to do with as he pleased was just the right sort of humor that would break her out of whatever funk had fallen over her.

The real reason, though, was tucked away in a box some place deep within her so that it's tiny voice would not be overheard by her conscious. Her intuition was screaming at her; she couldn't get a bead on him. She could read people within a matter of minutes, figuring out just exactly what they were about. Wife, kids, job, overarching philosophy; she could hone in on all of these things with the ease of a cold reader, but Kurama was too controlled for her abilities. Every emotion that flickered across his face underwent heavy mental screening. He was micromanaging his own expression, a feat that should have been all but impossibly, and showed her only exactly what he wanted her to see. The only time he hadn't been in control was when he'd first found her.

Even though the silence stretched between them she felt as if it were a comfortable one. The only difference was that while Kurama was relaxed and comfortable, Misaki was a tight bundle of nerves ready to snap under the lightest duress. There was no expectation to speak, no cues from him that hinted that he wanted her to say something. It was as if he knew that she'd be unable to speak at all during their first meeting and it unnerved her. His foresight was far more than just 'planning ahead' as Botan had claimed. It was superhuman.

"I must apologize," Kurama's soft voice did not so much break through the silence as gently lull noise awake. "I didn't mean to miss dinner, but I got a bit tied up at my mother's house. My step-brother needed some help with his homework and my step-father wasn't around...you know how it is," Kurama shrugged noncommitedly. "He is a very busy man, after all, and I'm afraid the level of Shuuichi's work is far too advanced for my mother, though she does try her best."

"I'm really sorry," Misaki blurted out, unable to keep a cap on things any longer. Whatever energy the foreign stillness of Genkai's Temple had given her had been sucked away and she was no longer able to maintain the farce that everything was fine. "Do I know you?"

Kurama's smile spoke volumes. There were secrets walled up behind those lips, perhaps more than Misaki could possibly imagine, and she resisted the sudden urge to grab him and shake him untiul they all fell out. Like a bully dangling a kid upsidedown from his ankles for his lunch money. "No, I believe that this is the first time you've met me," his tone was light, as if he were telling an inside joke that you just had to be there for to understand. It annoyed her. There was something going on with him, going on between them, and she had no clue what it was.

She squinted at him, as if obscuring her vision some would trigger her memory. "Are you sure? I mean, like, I meet a lot of people when I go out. You wouldn't be one of the guys I prey on, right? Yeah, no, definitely not. You're way too young."

Kurama's smile deepened into a grin as if he could barely contain his laughter. She flashed back to her conversation with Botan; nobody knew just how old Kurama was. Of course he'd laugh at being told he was too young. He probably did the exact same thing to people who carded him when he tried to buy liquor.

"Well, if you want to argue semantics then no, this is not the first time we've met. It is the first time you've been conscious, however."

Misaki crossed her arms, pouting. He was lying. She knew that he was, but just how she did was a mystery to her. Everything within her was nagging her and telling her that something wasn't right. Not in a dangerous sense, like a 'this guy is going to kidnap you and skin you for the human lady suit he keeps in his basement' kind of way, but she was definitely suspicious of him.

Her senses felt like they were on fire and she could almost visualize the tendrils of her curiosity accosting Kurama. They poked and proded him, looking for a way in but they could not fid a way through his defenses. What made it even more frustrating was that on top of her inability to read him, he knew that she suspected him of something and still refused to fess up. He was like a kid with crumbs on his mouth claiming that he hadn't just been in the cookie jar. The charming smile that could melt any girl's heart was still firmly in place as if it had been chiseled out of marble. He knew that she knew something, and now he was just toying with her. Not maliciously, though. No, more in the way that cats would cahse each other around the house.

How could she respond to outright denial? She couldn't press the issue without looking as if she had a few screws loose.

"I just wanted to check in with you and make sure you were settling in alright," Kurama's voice was affectionately warm and chased away the chill of the night. "You've had a trying week."

"I'm still not convinced that any of this is actually happening," Misaki said, "evidence to the contrary. I feel like I'll just go to sleep tonight and wake up tomorrow in my own bed." She shifted uncomfortably, twirling the stem in her hands until her thumb pressed painfully into one of the thorns. "Hey...thank you for rescuing me. I really owe you one."

"Please, think nothing of it," Kurama shook his head.

"I actually have a question, if you don't mind. Well, I actually have a few but I really don't have the energy to hear the answers to them right now. How did you kill that demon?"

Kurama took another step forward and suddenly he was enitrely too close. The invasion of her space was all he needed to do to distract, her breath sucking in painfully cold air as she unconsciously stumbled back a step. He took the rose that she had been clutching like a lifeline and twirled it expertly in his fingers, finding all of the spots free of thorns in the same what that a pianist's would find all the right keys. Then, with the flick of his wrist, the rose flashed red and unraveled intoa thick, thorny, vine. The petals dispersed around them in a cloud, sending up the sweet scent of roses as they went spiraling into the night. The whip he'd made was longer than what was physically possible. What about equivalent exchange? Convservation of mass? All chemical reactions had the same amount of stuff before as it did after, so why was the whip so much bigger than the rose? It was mind boggling, and she stumbled back a few steps as Kurama held up the rough handle for her to see.

"Ah, magic. Right, of course. Sorry for being so stupid," Misaki mumbled and Kurama laughed.

"Please mind the thorns," he said casually, as if this were a normal thing that happened every day. "They're incredibly sharp?"

"Sharp enough to decapitate a demon in one blow?"

Kurama's mouth twitched. "Yes. The rose whip is my weapon of choice, however I am willing to part with it to give you a bit of extra protection. Should anyone try to harm you, the rose will turn into this vine and strangle them."

"You mean cut their heads off a la Jigsaw style."

He smiled but said nothing more as he flicked his wrist. The whole vine glowed with energy once more before the rose was resting in his palm once more, looking just as it had a few minutes ago. He gave it to her, and the fact that she had such a powerful weapon at her disposal, though she couldn't even use it, didn't click with her.

"If you give this to me you won't have any way of protecting yourself," Misaki said blankly, thrusting the flower back at him.

"I appreciate your concern, however it is unfounded. I can use any plant, any rose, to defend myself," he pushed her hands back. "But I'm certain that you are quite tired no, so perhaps you should retire to your room? I'm sure you still have many questions, but let us hold off on them for now."

Misaki frowned. "Let's be honest, once everyone else is awake there won't be any time for us to talk alone."

"Alone? What happened that night is public knowledge, Misaki. In fact, the events have been so thoroughly rehashed that just about anyone here could give you the full run-through," Kurama tilted his head curiously, though his eyes gleamed with amusement. He knew what she was asking for, he knew what sort of questions couldn't be said around others, and he wasn't going to give her the opportunity to ask them.

"That's not what I meant and you know it," Misaki snapped. "You and I have a few things we need to set straight, mister."

Kurama laughed and the sound was deep and warm. It irritated Misaki to no end. Here she was in a strange new world being taunted by some self-righteous dick who could turn your aunt's petunias into throwing stars or something stupid like that. She didn't like it one bit. She felt like she was being looked down upon, like an adult would to a child.

"If that is yoru concern then I promise that I'll make time for you to question me without an audience. For now, though, get some rest. You're already running on fumes."

Misaki scowled as Kuyrama stepped around her, stopping when their shoulders were aligned. His hand seemed to move on its own, raising as if to pat her on the head before he stopped himself. His fingers curlsed into his palms just before they skimmed her hair, and guiltily he lowered his hand and continued his slow walk down the porch. Misaki watched him until he disappeared from sight, bewilderment fluttering through her stomach like butterflies. What was that? What was that?! That was definitely not something that someone did without knowing a person! That was a conditioned response, an action that had been repeated so many times that it had beencome automatic. Like a husband and wife who shared a quick kiss at the door when he came home from work. And he hadn't meant for it to happen, too. Or at least she didn't think he'd meant to do that. Was it a slip-up or another way of playing with her?

Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and with a start she looked down at the rose. The petals were folding in on themselves, the color deepening as it lay dormant in her hand. Dazed, Misaki stumbled back into her room, shutting the door behind her with a loud snap and climbing into her bed. She placed the rose next to her on the floor and stared at it as if Kurama himself were lying next to her. What was he hiding? And why? She pulled the covers up to her hcin and lay down,s ecretly hoping that Keiko would reappear before she fell asleep. She'd feel better knowing that there was something she knew close by, but the minutes ticked by and Misaki remained alone. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and begged her mind to go to sleep. She felt as if she'd need every wink of energy from here on in if she were going to survive this. She'd need every ounce of her wit if she were going to dig anything out of Kurama, and with that determined thought she drifted off to sleep.

There was no alarm clock to wake her up the next morning, nor any perky voice to rouse her from bed. Misaki stretched languidly, her muscles stiff in the way that muscles are when one gets an undisturbed night's rest. The morning light chilled the room, casting pale blue shadows along the walls and onto her face. Misaki roled over so it wasn't in her eyes and felt around for her glasses. Keiko was back in her futon, slumbering away like the dead, and Misaki figured that she must have gotten back very early in the morning. She was smiling in her sleep, and Misaki hoped that she had fun. She deserved it. Sitting up, she crawled to her bag and began to sort her things. She hung her clothes up in the closet that was provided for them, going over the outfits that Keiko had picked out for her. They were alright, not her usual style, but they would due for now. When he bag was empty, she filled it back up with her toiletries and made her way to the baths.

While there were many toilets scattered around the tmeple, there was only one bathroom. It was in a seperate building in the back yard and filled with water from one of the hot springs that dotted Genkai's property. Botan had told her that it used to be co-ed, however as more and more people began to live at the temple, separating the sexes had become necessary. Misaki only needed to take one look at the fierce blush on Keiko's face to know that Yusuke probably had something to do with that decision. Now a high, wooden wall had been raised between the two sides, separating the men and women so that they could bathe in peace.

Hot springs were a treat for many in Japan. People would go to them thinking that the waters posessed some kind of magical quality to heal their ailments. Misaki was fortunate in that she got to go more often than most; her grandparents own a hot spring resort in Hokkaido and had told her that the different types of springs did different things for the skin. Their alum spring, for instance, was supposed to make the skin softer. Every summer break she would travel up there to help out around the resort, and as a thank you she had unlimited access to the springs.

But Genkai's spring was different. After she had soaped herself up and rinsed in the shower, she slipped into the spring with her towel wrapped tightly around her. The waters here actually felt magical, and as she sank into the steam she felt herself being revitalized. The waters seemed to flow through her instead of around her, and it felt as if she'd drank twelve cups of coffee, minus the awful jittery feeling that much caffeine would bring. The residual aches and pains of her injuries began to disappear as she soaked, and after a while Misaki vowed that she was never leaving. She stayed in until her fingers pruned, and then for twice as long until her stomach began to rumble and she was forced to make the man, freezing cold, dash from the steamy waters to the locker room. She shed her towel with little modesty as she dried off. Going to the bathhouse in the morning was a trick she'd learned from her grandparents; most people went at night, so if you wanted to avoid the crowds, go in the early morning.

She dressed quickly, pulling on a pair of jeans and a sweater before setting about drying and straightening her hair in one of the long mirrors by the sinks. It didn't take her nearly as longa s it did the other day, and when she was finished she gathered her things and trotted back to her room. It only took her two tries to open the right door. The first room had been empty, and the second contained the tengu from the arcade, who sat up sleepily and blinked at her as she rushed to shut the door, hoping he hadn't seen her.

When she found the right room, Keiko sat up and yawned.

"G'morning!" Misaki greeted, flopping her bag down and pulling her makeup mirro to her. "Late night?"

Keiko coughed and looked away, and it told Misaki everything she needed to know.

"Hey, there's no shame or judgement from me," Misaki continued on as if Keiko had actually answered her question. "You guys haven't seen each other in a while; I'm not surprised you got up to a bit of hanky panky."

"Please...it's really early..."

"A little bit of the horizontal tango."

"Misaki!"

"You guys did bone, right?"

A pillow went sailing across the room and smacked Misaki cleanly in the face, her glasses bouncing off and glattering onto the floor. Misaki laughed and chucked it back, though Keiko was able to move out of the way. She scooped it up from the floor and threw it testily onto her futon, thus ending their brief pillow fight. Misaki tried not to feel disappointed. One of these days she'd succeed in baiting Keiko into having a pillow fight with her. Maybe Botan and Yukina might be willing to help her out with that endeavor.

"You're up awfully early," Keikos aid. "Did you bathe?"

"Yeah, I just got back. Awesome hot spring, yeah? I could have lived in there if I really wanted to," Misaki said as she slathered a layer of primer onto her skin. "And it's not really that early. It's almost ten."

"Is it really?" Keiko panicked, whipping her head to the clock mounted on the door. "I can't believe I overslept!"

"Hey, it's not like we have classes or anything to worry about," Misaki shrugged, but Keiko was ignoring her.

"We missed breakfast...at this point whatever Yukina made will be long gone."

Misaki's stomach grumbled as if on cue. "Well, that could be a problem, I guess. Is there a cafe or something we could go to?"

"Yes, but," Keiko made a face, "the stairs."

"Ah. Point taken," Misaki finished with her makeup and packed everything away. "Well then, I guess this is a great opportunity to show off my culinary skills! I volunteer as tribute!" She held three fingers high over her head, completely aware that this was not the right sign for the right district for the quote, but she couldn't be bothered to remember which was which.

"What are you talking about?" Keiko asked as she changed out of her pajamas.

"I'll make you breakfast."

"You can cook?" the incredulity in Keiko's question couldn't have been any more clear.

Misaki pretended to stumble backwards as if the comment had hurt. "Why, my dearest Keiko, I've been cooking for years! Let me show you just want I can do!"

By the time they were both ready the clock had crept closer to 11. Barefoot, the two padded down the hall as they made their way to the kitchen. Just as Keiko had predicted, there wasn't a scrap of food left. The only evidence that remained was the gentle warmth radiating off the stove and the dishes drying in the rack. Misaki surveyed her workspace. As far as kitchens went it was fairly large, though she supposed it had to be since the temple needed to feed large amounts of people on a regular basis.

"Here's the battle plan, soldier," misaki said, grabbing an apron off the wall and throwing it over her head. She threw another one at Keiko. "I'll cook, you do the dishes."

"Sounds fine by me."

Misaki began. The hot springs had left her feeling inspired, and soon the kitchen permeated with the smells of a traditional, Japanese breakfast. Even Misaki would admit that she had gone a bit overboard, as the miso bubbled in its pot and the rice cooker spat out plumes of steam. She'd pulled out the natto, the pickled plums, the seaweed. Vegetables sizzled in a pan on the stove, and the delicious smells minglede together and had her stomach roaring with hunger. Keiko washed pans as fast as Misaki could use them, and as she was throwing the salmon into another pan, Yusuke meandered in.

"Are you guys making breakfast?" he yawned as he slumped into a stool at the counter.

"No, we're performing complex alchemy. We're trying to turn tofu into gold," Misaki deadpanned and Keiko giggled.

"Can I eat it?"

Yusuke watched the two girls bustled about. Occasionally he'd try to steal a bite off of one of the finished dishes, but Keiko was very good at catching him in the act and hitting him upside the head. Misaki couldn't help but smile to herself at their antics. At first she'd wondered just how anyone could stand to date her roommate, what with all her straight laces, but Yusuke had managed it with ease. He'd told her last night that they were childhood friends, and the picture-perfect image of their relationship finally crystallized in her mind. It was the kind of love that girls dreamed about, and Misaki would be the first to admit that she was jealous.

A few minutes after Yusuke arrived the door opened again and Kurama came in. He wasn't nearly as asleep as Yusuke was, however his hair was an absolute mess. It was endearing, and Misaki watched him from the corner of her eye as he silently took a seat beside Yusuke.

"It take it we missed Yukina's breakfast," Kurama sighed, "but it looks as if we'll be in time for Misaki's."

"Yeah, here's hoping she doesn't poison us," Yusuke grumbled.

"Misaki is actually a wonderful cook," Kurama said with a yawn. "I'm looking forward to breakfast today."

Kurama's statement went unheard by all but Misaki, as all the noise in the kitchen made it difficult to hear. She felt her hands waver as her world went white. She'd never cooked for Kurama before. That she was one hundred percent certain of. The only people she cooked for were her parents, and occassionaly a boyfriend who had agreed to stay the night. How did he know about her skills? Slowly, she turned and met Kurama's eyes, the shock written clearly across her face. Kurama's smile was the same as it was last night; myserious, toying with her. She could hear her hearbeat in her ears as he turned away to talk to Yusuke, and soon she was distracted by the smell of smoke. She flipped the fish quickly before it burned.

When all was said and done, and all the pots and pans washed and drying, the four settled in around the counter. With all the food laid out, it seemed like a small feast; rice, fish, miso soup, tsukemono, nori, natto, kobachi, and a small salad she'd whipped together from left overs she'd found in the fridge were planted neatly in tfont of them. The sight of them marvelling at her breakfast would normally have delighted her. They were practically drooling, however she was still thinking about what she'd overheard Kurama say. Perhaps he'd run into her parents at the hospital and they had told him? But why? Botan herself had claimed that there were no run-ins with her-

"Oh God no," Misaki dropped her chopsticks.

"What's wrong?" Keiko asked, a ball of rice pausing halfway to her mouth.

"My parents!"

"What about them?" Yusuke said with his mouth full.

"They have no idea where I am!" she cried, launching herself to her feet. "Is there a phone I can use?"

"Can't this wait until after breakfast? I don't want to eat and listen to you yap," Yusuke grumbled. Misaki glared daggers at him and Kurama elbowed him. The red-head's face was drawn and tight, his eyes narrowed with displeasure.

"Some people's parents don't like it when their children disappear from their hospital rooms, especially when they are very severely injured," Kurama said as he put his chopsticks down. "There's a phone in the corner, Misaki."

"Oh, shit, sorry," Yusuke said, but Misaki did not hear him as she ran to the phone.

The rest of their conversation fell into the background as Misaki stalled at the phone. What in the world was she going to tell her parents? She couldn't exactly tell them the truth; they'd never believe it. Plus, Koenma's warning about danger echoed in her head again. She couldn't drag them into this if she wanted to. She twisted the cord through her fingers, her mind working a thousand miles a minute until an idea snapped into place. She pushed in a number and waited impatiently for the phone on the other end to be picked up.

Eventually it did, and a wizened voice greeted, "_ Resort, for all of your hot spring needs. What can I assist you with today?"

"Nana!" Misaki cried.

"Misaki, is that you? Oh! It's so good to hear your voice!"

"Nana, I need you to do me a huge favor. Like, the biggest favor I could ever ask of you," she was sweating. Her whole plan hinged on whether or not her grandma was willing to lie for her. Misaki and her grandmother were close. As a child she spent most of her time at that resort, at least until she was old enough to live on her own while her parents were away. They were like twins, only separated by a few decades. Her grandmother possessed the same eerie ability to read people, the same carefree nature, the same warm personality.

"Anything," her voice was serious, "but answer me this one question first. Are you safe?"

"Yes," Misaki cast an eye at the kitchen. Keiko and Yusuke had finished up and were washing their dishes, chatting with Kurama who hadn't touched his since she'd gotten up. He was waiting for her, and she could not even begin to postulate why this made her happy. "Yes, I'm safe, but I'm not in the hospital anymore."

"I know. Your parents already called here looking for you," Nana said, "they were quite upset that you were discharged without their knowledge. They've also already called the school...where are you?"

"Nana, if I could tell you I would. But it's top secret...look," she pulled the phone's receiver closer to her face and whispered, "I'm a bit in over my head right now, but I'm with good people. I really can't tell you any more than that. Could you please tell them that I'm with you at the resort?"

"Of course," the answer was firm, and Misaki let out a sigh of relief. "I'll tell them that you came up here hoping that the spring water will help with your foot. What should I tell them if they want to come visit?"

"I...haven't thought that far ahead," Misaki sighed. "I'm gonna call them when we hang up, but I don't know what to say."

"Then let me handle that. Just tell them that you're with your Nana and Papa and I'll take it from here," the familiar warmth in her voice comforted her, and Misaki leaned her head against the wall with a smile.

"Thank you so much, Nana. I owe you a thousand times over."

"Then come by during summer break and help out around here, you ingrate," Nana's playfully snapped. "I just had a girl quit on me and we're short staffed. I could use the help."

"Nana, I'll come up there every break I have and help out in order to repay you for this. Thank you."

After they hung up, Misaki called her parents. They were just as upset as she expected them to be, and after talking them down off the ledge she told them the lie sh and her grandmother had planned out. Of course, they had a thousand questions and were very close to jumping on the next train to Hokkaido. Misaki blurted out that there were no rooms left at the inn and ended the conversation first, hanging the phone onto its cradle with a sinking feeling in her chest. She tried to be as honest as possible with her family. She'd even gone so far as to tell her mother the first time she'd had sex; her parents encouraged her to be open with her feelings so that they could help her work through things. They were a tight-knit group, and she felt just wretched for having to do this to them. But she had seen first hand what involvement meant. Keiko had been involved, and as a result Misaki had nearly died. This was for the best, she told herself as she slumped back to the counter. She picked up her chopsticks and began to eat slowly, and Kurama did the same.

"Is everything settled?" he asked.

"Yeah, for now," Misaki shook her head. "I feel awful for lying to them," she cast an eye up at Kurama, who was watching her sympathetically. "You're a spirit in a human's body, right? Does your human mom know about that?"

"No," Kurama shook his head. "I wouldn't want to worry her with my troubles."

"Was she ever in danger because of you?"

"Once," the word was accompanied by a dangerous glint in his eye as Kurama relived the memory. It was frightening, and Misaki prayed that she would never end up on Kurama's bad side.

"I see," Misaki sighed.

"It's never easy, though," Kurama consoled. "I hate it as much as I suspect you do."

"Like," Misaki set her chopsticks down and braced her elbows against the counter, "I'm not exactly a cut-and-dry good person. Not like Keiko. I drink, I party, I like to have a good time, but I don't like lying. I want everyone to know where they stand with me, and lying just makes me feel like I crawled through a sewage pipe."

"I don't think you're a bad person," Kurama said as he nibbled at a piece of seaweed. "In fact, I think you're a very noble person. You do things for others without a second thought to yourself, and there is something admirable in that."

"Genkai called it foolish," Misaki sighed. "But on to more pressing matters," she eyed Kurama suspiciously. "How did you know I could cook?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You. You said that I was a really good cook, but I've never cooked anything for you. Hell, even Keiko was surprised I knew how to make something edible. How did you know?"

"I didn't," Kurama smiled. "I merely took a leap of faith that you could. Plus, the way you moved around the kitchen suggested you were a natural chef."

Misaki eyed him but was met with his impenetrable defenses once more. He was lying to her again. She'd given him too much time to think and come up with a response that she couldn't argue with. Next time he slipped up she'd have to jump on him immediately. She couldn't give him too much time to think, he was far too quick-witted for that.

"Alright, you win this time," Misaki conceded, shoveling her food into her mouth as quickly as she could.

"Win? I wasn't aware that we were playing anything," but the sparkle in his eyes told her otherwise. Misaki did not dignify him with a response. "I like what you did with my rose."

Misaki hadn't known what to do with the rose after she'd gotten dressed that morning. Her shirt had no pockets this time around, and even though it wasn't a normal rose she couldn't bear the thought of shoving it into her pants pockets. She'd thought about cutting the stem and pinning the blossom to her shirt like a corsage, but she wondered if that would affect the rose's defensive nature. Plus, she doubted she'd be able to cut through the reiki infused stem with a normal pair of scissors. So she had wrapped the thorns in cloth to prevent them from poking her and weaved the stem through her hair so that it sat just over her left ear, like a hair ornament.

"I'm pretty sure you gave it to me, so it's my rose now," she said as she finished up her breakfast. Before she could object, Kurama was collecting her dishes and piling them on top of his own.

"True," Kurama said as he crossed to the sink and dumped the plates in. He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and set about washing them. Not to be one upped, Misaki jumped off her stool and took to drying them. They soon worked out a rhythm, and in no time at all everything had been washed and dried and tucked away. "But a gift is still a gift, and I'd like you to remember that I was the one who gave it to you."

"So, what's on the menu for today?" Misaki ignored him. "I hate just sitting around and doing nothing, and I got this feeling this morning that that's what I'm gonna be doing here."

"Well, you could always introduce yourself to the other guests. I'm sure they're eager to speak with you," Kurama grinned, taking her rudeness in stride. "They've been asking about you nonstop since you got here."

"Why are they so interested in me?" Misaki huffed, pulling her apron off and hanging it up on the hook. "I'm really not that interesting."

"I'd beg to differ," Kurama leaned against the counter. "Have you ever had an English exchange student in your school?"

Misaki's brow furrowed at the sudden change in subject. "In high school, but he wasn't in my class."

"I'm certain that he was popular, though. Despite how interesting, or uninteresting, he was, he was still a native English speaker from another country, and that alone made him intriguing. You have the same appeal to the demons here. While you might not think you're anything special, but to them you're like a precious gemstone."

"Sapphire, if I have to pick one," she said. "I look good in blue. Anyway, what you're saying is I'm like the freak of the week."

"I wouldn't say that."

"And I'm assuming that they're not gravitating towards Keiko because everyone here is low-key terrified of Yusuke."

"Yes," Kurama sighed. "He is frightfully strong, perhaps one of the strongest in the demon world, and many here are afraid of offending Keiko because of it. They're afraid he'll retaliate if they insult her."

"But I don't have a big scary boyfriend to protect my honor so I'm fair game," Misaki nodded thoughtfully. "Well then, Kurama, I guess I'll just go throw myself to the wolves and hope that they don't tear me apart too badly. It's better than sitting around with my thumb up my ass."

The temple's residents usually collected in the training grounds after breakfast, which was quite the hike from the main complex. After brushing his hair, Kurama led Misaki through a dense patch of forest and she took the opportunity to observe him. Despite his lithe frame he seemed to be in exceedingly good shape, and as he walked several paces ahead of her, politely pretending not to notice that she was already out of breath, she mentally cursed his athleticism. If her stay at Genkai didn't make her lose at least five pounds, she was going to be pissed.

Kurama moved elegantly as well. Not a movement was wasted, and so his gait seemed more like gliding than walking. Even the wind that burst through the woods seemed to move in time with him, and as he passed beneath the light, scattered by a litany of tree branches, the dabbled sunshine turned his hair brilliant shades of wine and crimson and stole the breath right out of Misaki's lungs. He wasn't just handsome, he was ethereal, and no man on earth had any business being so beautiful. The worst part of it all was that Misaki was certain that there was very little effort involved on his part. She suspected that he simply rolled out of bed and found a clean pair of clothes every morning, and somehow still managed to be dazzling. She had to primp and preen and pluck to get to where she was, and it wasn't fair that his appearance was so low maintenance.

In fact, it wouldn't be fair to anybody if he did put time into his appearance. With a trim and some new clothes he'd look like a movie star. Girls, or guys, as she still wasn't a hundred percent certain of his preference, would be falling over themselves just to get a look at him. And if he were to get drunk in the vicinity of her makeup bag...well, a few dabs of contour here, a bit of eye shadow, and some lipstick would be all it'd take to turn him into a woman. An attractive woman, even. As she watched him she determined that he could totally work a pair of high heels and a chiffon skirt. As she plotted just how she'd do it, what shades to use and which pumps to pick, the though of him cross-dressing spiraled into full on drag.

Misaki admired drag queens; their ability to make themselves look nothing like themselves was nothing short of magical, and Kurama would be a showstopper. His stage name would be Lady Snatchdragon, a pun on snapdragons, and he would wear a floor length mermaid gown of shimmery green material. His hair would be done up in big loose curls, each strand delicately pinned to look like the petals of a rose. The thought of his sashaying down a run way, his usual reserved walk replaced by a flamboyant tilt of his hips, the exaggerated pursing of his lips, as he posed at the audience and threw flowers to his adoring fans was all it took to have Misaki grinning like an idiot. It wasn't hard to imagine, and so her brain picked up the idea and ran with it until it had taken on a life of its own.

She was imagining him on Ru Paul's Drag Race, his over the top theatrics an instant hit with the judges, when the real Kurama stopped a few paces ahead of her and turned to face her.

"Are you alright?" Kurama asked.

For a moment imagination and reality merged and Misaki swore Kurama's eyebrows had been painted up high over his forehead and his eyelids slathered in gold glitter. The suddenness of the vision had her sputtering as she wrangled a laugh that threatened to slip out.

"I'm fine," she snorted," clasping her hands over her mouth. "Totally peachy."

"What are you laughing about?"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

Kurama frowned but there was a playful glint in his eye that was quite endearing. "Are you sure? I don't usually find nothing all that funny."

"To the clinically insane, nothing is a hoot," Misaki slapped her cheeks a few times as she attempted to compose herself.

"You couldn't possibly have been thinking about me, could you?"

Misaki stuttered, her joviality evaporating into confusion as she stared at Kurama wide-eyed.

"How did you..." she trailed off.

"I didn't know for certain, I simply guessed," he gave her a tongue-in-cheek smile. He took a few steps forward and poked her forehead gently with his finger. Despite the chill morning, his hands were warm. "Of course, you just confirmed it. The only question left is what about me could possibly have made you laugh that hard?"

Misaki batted his hand away sheepishly. The bit of contact sent a jolt of static through her, but if Kurama felt it he didn't show it. She hastily shoved her hands back into the pockets of her jacket and scowled.

"I will take that secret with me to the grave," she said, marching past him and down the path.

The training grounds were damp and smelled fetid, as swamps often did. Dead trees sank into the muck surrounding pools of stagnant water, and among them about a dozen demons had separated into two groups, standing on opposite ends of the clearing. In the middle of one was Yusuke, who appeared to be demonstrating some technique with one of the residents of the half-way program. The others were sparring. Misaki watched as the young boy with the stars launched yo-yo's at the tall mohawk man. They caught him around the arm, and then as if they were made from steel, lifted him high up into the air. Misaki craned her head up to watch them, shielding her eyes against the sun as she watched the mohawk-guy grab the strings and pull, yanking the yo-yos out of the kid's hands. He came pelting to the ground and panic flooded through Misaki. He was too far up, he wouldn't survive that fall. Just as she was about to run to him, a warm hand on her arm pulled her back. She whipped her head around to Kurama, who smiled at her.

"That guy is going to-"

"Chu will be alright," Kurama said, nodding his head towards the fight. In the second that Kurama had grabbed her, Chu had somehow managed to land upright and aimed a bunch of punches at the boy who struggled do dodge them. "In fact, I believe it's Rinku who is on the fence here. Regardless," Kurama pulled her back towards him another step, and Misaki's feet slipped a bit on the wet grass. "Be wary of the bog. It is far deeper, and far colder, than it looks, and it wouldn't do to have you getting sick after you've just been released from the hospital."

Misaki looked down, and sure enough she had almost stepped into a puddle. Or what looked like a puddle, at least. It wasn't wide, maybe only a foot and a half in diameter, however the waters were completely black, hinting at its depths. Kurama's hand slipped down to her hand as he guided her gently through the minefield of puddles.

"Would you like me to introduce you to them, or would you like to go with Yusuke?"

Misaki glanced between the two groups. Yusuke seemed to have his audience hooked, each demon leaning forward on their haunches as they soaked in every one of Yusuke's words. He finished his explanation and motioned for one of the demons on the ground to join him. A middle aged, muscular demon with horns came to stand opposite of Yusuke and took a fighting stance. In the flash of an eye, Yusuke had his opponent in a complicated hold, earning a gasp from the demon. She watched the awe on their faces and wondered if, like her, they hadn't even seen Yusuke move. He repeated the demonstration again, slowly this time, walking through each and every motion he'd made at super human speed.

"He seems really into his lesson right now," Misaki said, turning her attention away and back towards the other group. Chu had somehow managed to get Rinku into a headlock and was rubbing his knuckles into the top of the boy's hat as he squirmed helplessly in his grasp. "They seem like they're having way more fun, anyway."

With a nod, Kurama guided her towards the second group, although the ground here seemed completely solid. Only when they approached the group did Misaki realize that they were still holding hands, and with a sudden wave of embarrassment she made to weave her fingers out of his. For a second his grip tightened, his palm flinching almost reflexively, then wearily letting go. It lingered a little too close for too long, and with a discomforting feeling sinking into her stomach, Misaki closed the distance between her and the ring of fighters at a half jog.

"No, you definitely cheated!" Rinku cried as Misaki joined the circle. "There's no way..."

Chu burped loudly, and even from several yards away Misaki could smell the alcohol on his breath. She watched, mystified, as he produced a bottle from somewhere and proceeded to chug straight from it. It was bottom shelf, cheap, and potent; the kind that bartenders lit on fire just for funsies. The next time anyone called her an alcoholic, she was going to cite Chu.

"Face it, kid," He belched loudly as Rinku took a few feeble swings at him. He simply leaned against the kids head and held him at arms length, "I'm just stronger...better...the better fighter! The best fighter even!"

Misaki ended up standing next to the crow demon she'd accidentally walked in on that morning while on her way back to her room. He was tall and handsome, with a long, almost beak-like nose and flowing white hair. His wings were folded up behind him as the fighters in the ring changed places and the next bout began. He seemed deep in thought as he watched the first few test swings, then as the fighting picked up pace his eyes began to dart with their movements. She recognized that look. He was studying them, their moves, their weaknesses, and although the fighting soon became too fast for her to see, she could tell how it was going just by the flickers of emotions across the demon's face.

"Hey," she said as Kurama came up to stand on her other side. She ignored him, unable to shake the strange feeling he'd just given her. The demon did not seem to hear her, so she cleared her throat again. "Excuse me?" Nothing. With a pout, Misaki grabbed the demon's sleeve, tugging on it. That was all it took, and the Tengu jumped, his wings fluttering out as he started. "Hi."

"Oh," he blinked owlishly at her, then realization seemed to dawn on him. "Oh!" For a moment he stared at her as if he had just seen a ghost, then coughed roughly into the crook of his elbow. "You're Misaki, the human, correct? You accidentally wandered into my room this morning."

To her left, she felt Kurama stiffen.

"Yeah, I wanted to apologize for that," Misaki said sheepishly. "Genkai's Temple is really confusing and I was trying to make my way back to my room. And I'm sorry for accidentally waking you up so early."

"Sojobo of Mt. Kurama," he greeted with a small bow. "And your apology is accepted."

Misaki quirked a brow at him, glancing back to Kurama to see if he reacted to the name. Kurama had not. He'd turned his attention to the fight, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes narrowed dangerously. Unlike Sojobo moments before, he was not following the fight, and with a shiver Misaki turned her attention away from him. Kurama had this strange ability; one second she felt comfortable with him as if he were an old friend, then the next she felt seriously dangerous vibes. It was worse, and much darker, than the feeling she'd get from lecherous guys when she was out on the town. Theirs was an animalistic, wild, danger. This one was focused, like a torturer who actually enjoyed his craft.

"Have you just arrived?" Sojobo continued on amiably, completely unaware of Kurama's brooding.

"Yeah, late yesterday," Misaki said. "I think I saw you doing karaoke when we passed through the arcade."

"Ah yes, a useful machine," Sojobo nodded. "It measures the spirit's ability to adapt to new situations. I am quite happy to say I've held the record on that game since I've been here."

"How long have you been staying at Genkai's?"

Sojobo cast his eye around the circle, eventually landing on Rinku who had collapsed onto the ground, pouting, then up to Chu who was making neat work of the demon that had stepped up to challenge him.

"A little after Chu and Rinku. Aside from them, I've been here longest."

"Then why haven't you been placed yet?" Kurama's voice was cold and caused both Sojobo and Misaki to jump. "Rinku and Chu have remained here to help ease with transitions and to train. What is your excuse?"

"Ah, Kurama, I didn't see you there," Sojobo's tone was pleasant, but there was something not quite right about it. Fear, perhaps? No, it was more complicated than just that. It was the feeling one got when they saw their favorite singer live and realized that they could sing better than them. It was unhealthy competition, and suddenly the air between the two men grew humid. "We have yet to figure out a solution to my wings." As if to demonstrate, he unfurled them slightly. When they were pressed to his back, they seemed small, but that slight movement was enough to lead Misaki to believe that they were at least ten feet across. "Not everyone can simply will their extremities away like you can."

Kurama said nothing as Chu executed his finishing blow and the demon tapped out. He looked around the circle, arms spread as he looked for a new challenger before settling on Kurama. His face fell for a fraction of a second, as if able to read the murderous expression on the fox spirit's face, then snapped back into place.

"Oi, Kurama! You never come out here!" He sauntered over, clasping Kurama on the shoulder. Despite Chu's size and obvious strength, Kurama did not buckled under the slap. In fact, he barely moved at all. Realizing that Kurama was a lost cause, he glanced cautiously at Sojobo, who was busy feigning ignorance, and then to Misaki, who stood between the two and radiated confusion. "Hey! It's the human! You're Keiko's friend, right?"

At this announcement a murmur went around the group, and if they weren't paying attention then, they certainly were now. With so many eyes on them, Kurama forced his expression back into one of neutrality. Chu was, apparently, a touch-feely guy, and in a second Misaki found herself being scooped clean off her feet and hauled several feet up into a massive chest. Chu squeezed her and she felt the vertebra in her back pop. His overly exuberant greeting was a ruse however, and when she was close enough to his face he whispered, "Watch yourself. Sojobo and Kurama do not get along," before dropping her onto her feet.

She staggered for a second, her back aching as she struggled to stay upright. Chu was already moving, though, and a second later he had grabbed Sojobo by the arm and was hauling him into the center of the ring. Sojobo was resisting, his feet digging into the soil, his wings spread out behind him for leverage, but he seemed unable to overpower the drunk demon. With a sigh, he resigned himself to having to fight and took a strange stance opposite Chu.

As they began, Misaki turned to Kurama and said, "What the hell was all that about?"

"Chu is a very enthusiastic man," Kurama said dryly.

"No, I mean," she motioned vaguely between him and Sojobo, and Kurama sighed heavily.

"Sojobo and I have a long and sordid history," Kurama offered, then said no more.

"Wait, wasn't he from that one fairy tale?"

Kurama ignored her question, instead stuffing his hands in his pockets and causing Misaki to pout. Instead she turned her attention to the fight. Despite having wings, Sojobo had not taken flight. He stayed on the ground, dodging and blocking Chu's blows whenever he could, but never going on the offensive. Misaki racked her brains for more information; it was a tale she'd heard as a kid. Sojobo...king of the Tengu's. It clicked into place as Sojobo stepped around Chu, causing him to stumble for half a second. His foot flashed out, catching Chu between the shoulder blades and sending him sprawling onto the ground. Chu recovered, launching himself up and charging back in for the next scrimmage.

Sojobo was the king of the Tengu and he was supposed to be powerful and terrifying. He was the boogeyman that mothers would use to prevent their kids from wandering off. She'd heard it a thousand times when she'd visited her grandmother; "don't wander into the woods unless you want Sojobo to eat you!" Never mind that Mt. Kurama was almost on the opposite side of Japan and that, apparently, it's King was currently in Genkai's Temple getting his ass beat by an alcoholic. Misaki winced as Chu landed a solid blow on Sojobo's jaw. Had he not been in the middle of dodging it would have easily splintered into a thousand pieces. The force of it reminded Misaki of her own, one-sided, fight with a demon and she instinctively took a step back.

In a sudden twist, Sojobo was on the offensive. His attacks grew faster and faster until he was literally swirling around Chu in clouds of dust. Then he burst through his cover, grabbing onto Chu. His wings spread out, the end feathers brushing the perimeter of the circle as he launched the two of them high into the air. Once they were only mere specks in the air, they exchanged a succession of quick blows before they came hurtling down. Chu did not land on his feet this time, instead crashing down on his back with a pained yelp, as Sojobo landed heavily on Chu's abdomen. Chu tapped out, covering his mouth as he rolled onto his stomach and scuttled away, trying hard not to puke.

"How in the world did he survive that?" Misaki muttered to herself.

A blur of red moved past her, and before she understood what was happening she watched Kurama enter the ring. A hush fell over the crowd, but it wasn't like the one in Yusuke's circle. This was one of tension, and the electricity crackled between the two men as they faced off against one another.

"Come to face me, fox?" Sojobo was polite as he removed a fan with seven feathers on it from the inside of his robes. "A rare treat indeed."

"Yes," Kurama's voice was polite, but a vein of ice ran straight through it. "Perhaps this time around you'll actually manage to challenge me."

Without any warning this new fight began, but it was different from the others. This was not a spar, but a full on battle, and even Misaki could feel the change in the air. She shivered, wondering if she should intervene and stop them. But what could she do? She was just human and the most she could do was run out in between the two fighters. And she wasn't that stupid. Again, the image of the demon's hand swinging down at her head flashed before her eyes. If that demon had been killed by Kurama in one, clean, go, just what sort of force were two practiced fighters putting out? Misaki couldn't imagine, and so she simply took a step back as the circle around them expanded.

Sojobo's fan had turned into a sword, the hilt resembling spread wings with the counterweight reaching out like a grasping claw. The blade itself was etched with dark runes. Kurama brushed his hair over his shoulders and another rose materialized in his hands. Misaki unconsciously touched the one threaded through her hair as Kurama flicked his wrist and a deadly whip formed. The two stood opposite each other, and it was difficult to tell who had the advantage as they lunged at one another. Sojobo needed to get in close with his sword in order to do any kind of damage, but once he was within range his blows would be devastating. Kurama's whip seemed like a good option, but would not keep Sojobo away for long. If he could not move the thorns fast enough and left an opening, Sojobo could easily move in. However, Kurama's skill with his whip was magnificent, and the sound of the vine cracking filled the swamp as he moved it at lightening speed. It was all Sojobo could do to keep the thorns from cutting into him, dodging and parrying with his sword.

Something changed, though Misaki could not tell what, and Kurama's strategy switched. In a second his whip had latched itself to the blade of Sojobo's sword, and with a tug it flew from the Tengu's hands. As it sailed high over their heads, the sword reverted back to a fan and landed harmlessly behind Kurama. Kurama did not smirk at this victory, but instead went all in, the rose whip recoiling as it shot towards Sojobo with alarming speed. He spread his wings and leaped out of the way just as it bit at the air beneath his feet. He launched a kick at Kurama's face, but the redhead deftly dodged beneath him, whirring in a circle so that his whip lashed against the ground until it swung behind him to wear Sojobo was standing. He managed to flip out of the way, and as his hands touched the ground he grabbed his fan once more, the feathers elongating into his sword.

But Kurama was faster. Just as before, he disarmed the sword, though this time the release wasn't nearly as neat as the first. And the sword did not revert back into a fan. And it was aimed straight at Misaki. She froze, eyes wide as the sword flew closer and closer. There was a commotion, a whirl of wind, and suddenly a green jacket blocked her vision. Yusuke was standing before her, the blade of the sword held neatly between his two fingers, the tip of it just mere inches from Misaki's face. Her heart pounded in her chest and she felt her knees give out as she collapsed to the ground. Sojobo stared back in shock, but Kurama was already running towards her. Yusuke threw the sword down in disgust as Kurama crouched before her, grabbing her face in his hands as he examined her.

"Misaki! Are you alright?" Kurama asked, his eyes wide with concern. "I'm so sorry, I didn't..." he drifted off. He sounded absolutely wretched, but it was lost on Misaki. She was in shock, having nearly just died. Had Yusuke not intervened she'd have died. Again. Her eyes prickled with tears, and that seemed to alarm Kurama only more. "Please, tell me, are you injured?"

"Kurama, she's fine," Yusuke snapped, and suddenly he was dragging Kurama to his feet by his collar. Kurama thrashed against him, pulling himself away and leveling a dangerous glare Yusuke's way. It halted him for only a moment before Yusuke scowled. "What the hell is wrong with you?" He then grabbed Kurama by the front of his shirt as if he were going to give him a lecture, then cast an eye around the circle of demons that had pressed in close. "Just...c'mon."

He let Kurama go and stomped away. Kurama hesitated, casting his gaze between Misaki and Yusuke. He caught her eye and she shook her head. He deflated, sticking his hands deep into his pockets and trudging off after the other spirit detective. When they left, Sojobo approached and offered Misaki a hand. Trembling, she took it and he hauled her to her feet. Then he bowed, deeply.

"Forgive me," he said solemnly. "Our fight got out of hand and you were not meant to be caught in the cross fire."

"It's...it's okay," Misaki stammered, clutching her hands together to prevent them from trembling. "No harm no foul, am I right?"

"Jeesh," a young voice piped up and Rinku stepped through the crowds. "You two always get way out of hand when you fight."

Sojobo straightened and sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yes, it was a mistake to have agreed to fight him. I was just...caught up."

"You weren't the only one," Rinku glanced at Yusuke and Kurama who were arguing at the edge of the clearing. "I've never seen Kurama act that irrationally before. He's usually a lot more collected."

"Well, it's not secret that they hate each other," another demon piped up from the back of the crowd. "Maybe Kurama just lost it?"

"Nah, Kurama's not like that," Rinku sniffed, rubbing under his nose. "No use dwelling on it, though. It's almost time for lessons, anyway, so we should all head back."

There was a murmur of agreement. The crowd began to disperse down the pathway, each mumbling and recounting just what they had witnessed. Rinku gave Misaki a curious look before shrugging and following after them. Sojobo lingered for a moment longer.

"I know that this is a lot to ask right now," he said slowly, "but we would be delighted if you could join us for our lessons. Today it'll be about appropriate conduct at Internet Cafes."

Misaki stared up at him as if she'd just awoken from a bizarre dream. He gave her a half-hearted smile, but still she didn't answer. He'd had the alacrity to ask her that after she'd nearly died. All she wanted to do was crawl back into her bed and collect herself. But even that wasn't easy. She still had a ways back to the temple, probably a good half-hour walk, and any energy she'd had dissipated the second she'd nearly died. Again. She looked up at the cruel sky; it had turned overcast and a frigid wind skated across the tops of the swamp, stirring the waters and releasing an awful odor. Could she go one day in the spirit world without dying?

"Misaki?" Kurama called, his voice small and uncertain as she turned unsteadily towards him. "Let's...rest here for a while. Then we'll go back."

"Where's Yusuke?"

"He went on ahead," he said. "Come, let's sit over here where the wind isn't so bad."

Misaki did not resist, but simply let him lead her like a marionette to the tree in question. It's trunk was broad, and blocked the wind, just as Kurama had promised, and the two sat side by side with their backs pressed against it. She could feel the warmth of his shoulder from where it touched hers, and it comforted her a bit. Without the commotion in the clearing, the forest grew eerily quiet until Kurama broke it with a sigh.

"I had hoped to wait a bit longer as I did not wish to overwhelm you, but I suppose I should tell you some things about myself," Kurama did not look at her as he spoke.

Misaki nodded wordlessly, and with Kurama continued.

"I suppose I shall start with the rivalry between myself and Sojobo," his tone was measured, even, and Misaki wouldn't have suspected that he'd been trying to kill the Tengu only a few minutes before had she not seen it for herself. "He and I are both very old, and he knows me back from my days as a thief. Back when I was at the peak of both my power and cruelty. Even now that is a reputation that has followed me; people hear the name Youko Kurama and still quake with fear." He picked tentatively at a few dead blades of grass, allowing the crumbled remains to drift out of his hands. "Sojobo and I lived on the same mountain and have had more than our fair share of run-ins over the years. Back when he was King of the Tengus, and his illustrious palace proved to be too much for my self-restraint. I robbed him several times over the course of our lifetimes, and he never seemed to forgive me that."

Kurama paused. "When I first began to make a name for myself I had a partner named Kuronue. He was a bat demon, and perhaps the only true friend I've ever had. One day we decided to steal a precious mirror from Sojobo's treasury. During our escape, Kuronue lost a pendant that was precious to him. He went back to get it, however he fell into one of Sojobo's traps. I tried to save him however he begged me to go since Sojobo was hot on our trail. I suppose I never forgave him for that."

Misaki nodded wordlessly.

"Later on there was another incident that only deepened the bad blood between us," the words came thick, as if Kurama were still piecing together just what he wanted to say. He leaned his head back against the tree, his eyes shut as he took a deep breath. "After Kuronue died I assembled a large band of thieves. We roamed Mt. Kurama and the surrounding areas, we pillaged human and demon villages alike. We were a truly terrifying force, and it was not uncommon to show up at a palace to find the inhabitants gone and their possessions laid out neatly at the front gates for us. It took the fun out of the theft, but we were notorious. Among this group, for a time, was a woman I came to care for deeply."

He paused, casting Misaki a significant look. She nodded again, only half hearing the story. Kurama swallowed and seemed conflicted. "My apologies, Misaki. I won't bore you with any more today."

Misaki nodded.

The two stayed like this for a time until Misaki's mental faculties returned to her and the cold nipped at her toes. When she was ready, the two silently rose and headed back towards the temple. Kurama did not speak to her again, though Misaki could swear that he kept looking back at her as if he hoped she'd say something. What could she say? She understood that what had just happened had not been his fault. It was an accident, and she did not hold it against him one bit. But she could not shake the sight of the sword as it flew at her, and suddenly Koenma's warning came echoing back to her.

If she were a smart girl, she would have taken what she'd learned and run. But Misaki was stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

A/N: Uh oh! Misaki is having some regrets about joining the spirit world, but can you blame her? I, for one, would be terrified if someone accidentally launched a sword at my face. A huge thank you again to everyone who read this and followed this! And a huge shout out to ExtraCaramel for your review! I also hope that the word of my fic will get out there and that people will keep enjoying it and coming back for more. As you said, until then I look forward to having such a dedicated fan! Honestly, I always get this nervous thrill whenever I release a new chapter. I wonder if people are going to like it. I always think to myself, "this will be the chapter where people get bored and stop reading," so your encouragement is greatly appreciated! Tune in next week as Kuwabara and Hiei arrive at the temple, bringing with them more news of Suna.


	4. Chapter 4: Electric Boogaloo

A/N: How many near death experiences have you had? Misaki can count them on one hand, but she firmly believes that two in a week and a half is definitely exceeding her quota. Coming to terms with her new surroundings is going to be difficult, and the initial wonder she had is quickly disappearing. However the Spirit World seems intent on not giving her a moment's rest.

Misaki spent the remainder of the afternoon bundled up in her futon, her blankets piled over her in a formless heap as she stave off hysteria. Nobody came to bother her, assuming she would need space after "Near Death Experience 2; Electric Boogaloo," which was honestly not as good as the original. In its own strange way, the first time she'd nearly gotten herself killed had served a purpose; it had been her gateway to the Spirit World, a malicious herald that had hearkened her into a reality that was as magnificent as it was terrifying. The sequel seemed pointless by comparison. An accident, a mistake; it was so anti-climactic that Misaki wanted to laugh, but all that would come were sobs that she stifled with her pillow.

Only once did someone pass by her door, their shadows betraying their identities. A tall man with a Mohawk and a boy with an iconic hat. Chu and Rinku tarried by her door, whispering to each other in hushed tones. Part of their conversation seeped beneath the protection of her comforter.

"You think she'd be over it by now," Rinku huffed and Chu, as quick as lightening, clapped his hands over the younger boy's mouth with more force than was necessary.

The two argued quietly for a few minutes before Chu eventually drove his fist into the top of Rinku's head, thus ending their squabble. The boy sulked away, hands stuffed snugly in his pockets and mumbling to himself, however Chu loitered a few minutes more. She could feel his gaze on her, even with the walls obscuring her from sight. What could he be thinking? Was he as scornful of her behavior as Rinku had been, or was he more sympathetic? It was impossible to know without seeing his face, but the thought of moving from the safety of her bed had her limbs seizing with pure terror. Part of her wanted him to barge in uninvited and distract her from the mind numbing anxiety that had her frozen to the spot. She was like a Misaki-shaped ice sculpture, she thought wryly. A friendly face would help chase away the perverse shadows that had collected in her mind, and at the very least Chu was good for a drink. The man was like a walking liquor cabinet, and a bit of liquid courage would go a long way for Misaki at the moment. But Chu did not hear her silent welcome and soon her passed as well, leaving her alone once more.

It was probably for the best, she thought. She was a wreck. Even though she had stopped crying hours ago her face was still red and puffy. Her makeup had dripped in inky black and gray streams down her face. She looked like a middle schooler with no concept of what looked good at some emo pop-punk concert, crawling in my skin indeed. She felt pathetic and she hated herself for it. She had cried more in the last few days than she had in years and it was quite frankly exhausting. She wanted nothing more than to just suck it up and go back to her normal self, but no matter how severely she berated herself into action she could not move past her own wretchedness. Eventually she would need to leave. She'd need to tap into her bravery reserves and wander outside. She'd need to eat at some point and the call of nature could only be ignored for so long.

The thought of running into anyone was unbearable, though. She knew she was being weak and it was embarrassing enough, never mind if someone else commented on it. She'd be mortified if Yusuke were to tease her right now, or if Rinku were to make another callous comment. In her brief time at Genkai's Temple she'd learned that tact was all but nonexistent. She felt like she was in high school again; on the rare occasion her parents were home they tended to pick on her self-imposed exiles. They would joke, call her a mushroom, or a shut-in, or a NEET, and while they meant well their words more often than not squelched any desire she had to leave her bedroom. Now that she was older she knew that they had simply been asking for her company because they missed her, but she highly doubted that would be the case here. How could the residents of the temple miss her if they didn't even know her? She meant nothing to these people, which only served to deepen her depression.

So the day slipped away in this manner and soon night had descended on the temple once more. By the time dinner rolled around Misaki had mustered up enough energy to clean her face and open the outside door to allow a crisp breeze in. The fresh air did wonders to revive her spirits and by the time someone knocked on her door she felt enough like herself to face them.

"Pardon me, but I'm coming in," Kurama announced before pushing the door open with his foot. He was carrying a tray of food as he made his way in.

"It's rude to enter a lady's room uninvited," Misaki's voice lacked its usual vibrancy, try as she might to force it. S he gave Kurama a wry smile as he set the tray down.

"Yes, however it is equally unforgivable to ignore the distress of another," Kurama countered. "Do not worry; I have no intention of imposing my company on you. I merely came to bring you something to eat."

"Wait!" Misaki rocketed to her feet in an instant and caught Kurama's sleeve just as he turned to leave. He started at the sudden contact and Misaki was surprised about it as well. She knew she shouldn't have grabbed at him, however her body had reacted all on its own and despite her insistence to release him her fingers refused to uncurl. Burning with shame she averted her eyes. "Uh, I wouldn't mind if you stayed."

Kurama's face lit up. The change was subtle; the slight loosening of his jaw, the imperceptible smile that lifted the corners of his lips, his eyes narrowing affectionately. The effect was startling. It was a more controlled version of the joy she'd seen when he'd rescued her. This was what Kurama looked like when he was pleased, and Misaki studied him in order to commit the face to memory.

"Of course. I would be happy to join you."

As if turned out, Kurama had actually planned for this turn of events and brought enough things for the two of them. They dug in and while Yukina was a phenomenal cook Misaki barely tasted anything. She hadn't realized just how hungry she was and so she inhaled her foot at a speed that even a vacuum cleaner would be jealous of. Kurama ignored her lapse in manners and when they were finished Kurama piled the plates back onto the tray. Guilt flooded through her at all he'd done for her, and before he could she grabbed the tray and braced it against her hip.

"Are you sure?" Kurama's hands were braced beneath it as if he expected it to tumble out of her arms at any second.

"I carry things way heavier than this on the daily," Misaki scoffed. At her grandparent's inn she often carried orders that dwarfed the weight of their little meal. "And evidence to the contrary, I'm not that weak."

"I never said you were, and I certainly don't believe that you are," Kurama consoled. He seemed uncertain, and Misaki knew he wanted to talk about earlier. Had it been anyone else she would have deflected the line of questioning because she simply wasn't ready for it, but she felt like she could talk to Kurama. There was something about him that made her feel safe, as if he wouldn't judge her when she spoke her piece.

"Maybe I overreacted this morning," Misaki sighed. "I'm just not...you know...used to this whole thing as much as I thought I was."

"You should not have to grow accustomed to nearly dying," Kurama articulated. "I regret what happened this morning and had hoped to formally apologize to you. I was caught up in my own head and you have suffered for it. It's inexcusable."

"It wasn't your fault, though," Misaki brushed him off as she headed for the door. "I don't blame you or anything, so your apology really isn't necessary."

"You may not have any ill-will towards me," there was a significant pause here as if he had forgotten what he was saying in mid sentence. With a steadying breath, he continued, "However, it was still my mistake that put you in danger. So please, allow me to apologize."

There existed a nervousness in him that hadn't been there a moment before, and it took Misaki by surprise. He had paused as if, instinctively, he had meant to add another word, a 'yet.' She didn't have any-ill will towards him, yet. The word's omission rang heavier and louder than he'd anticipated, as if the space in the sentence were being swallowed up by the gap. She turned, observing him with inquisitive eyes as he handed her another piece to a puzzle that just wouldn't fit together. Did he plan on doing something that would make her hate him in the future? As she studied him, she felt that wasn't entirely the case. There was regret etched into his face, worn and old, as if he had committed some great atrocity against her in the past. But the only thing she could think of was the sword incident. So what had he meant, and why was he suddenly so somber?

She could not bring herself to suspect him of any kind of malice. He had saved her life, sat with her when she could not walk, brought her dinner, given her a magical rose that would protect her if anyone tried to harm her. Despite his enigmatic, and sometimes overwhelming, persona it was difficult to imagine that he ever would hurt her. The video had claimed that, in the past, he had been cruel and fearsome, but not an iota of that remained on his wide-eyed face as he met her eyes. So she filed that tidbit of information away, throwing it in a box labeled "unimportant" and grinned at him.

"Alright then. I forgive you, Kurama."

A flutter of emotions on his face happened so quickly it was impossible for Misaki to keep up. Relief, then he returned the smile. It wasn't his usual, tight-lipped one, either. He was beaming at her as if he wouldn't ever be able to wipe the grin off his face. Then, just as quickly, it faded into something even more incomprehensible. It was pain, a pain like she had never witnessed before. It was like a cut that had been left untreated and had crusted over with pus. It was so heart wrenching that it made Misaki want to go to him, touch him, give him a hug. He passed her, though, and opened the door to hide his expression. By the time he'd turned back to her, whatever mental battle he had been fighting was over, and he was his usual, neutral self.

"Thank you," Kurama breathed. "I just hope you remember those words someday."

Confusion overtook her as she followed him out of the room. She did not question his weird words because she knew she wouldn't get a straight answer. So she followed him silently down the hall and through the kitchen, and with each step away from her room his mood seemed to improve. By the time they were standing side by side, washing and drying, they were back to normal. They chatted, and while it wasn't anything important it made Misaki feel almost normal. For a second she could pretended that she was the girl she'd been a week ago, that Kurama was just another friend she'd picked up along the way. He asked her about her family, her friends, school, and in turn she learned about his mother and his job. But as things always did in the temple, their conversation soon turned back to the supernatural.

"What about your life from before," she waved a chopstick, "before all this? You were a thief, right? What's the best thing you ever stole? Aside from a girl's heart, anyway."

"That's a bit cliche," Kurama laughed.

"You honestly can't tell me that you haven't used that as a pick up line."

"I'd never do something as lame as that," Kurama shook his head, smiling. "My career as a thief was a long and illustrious one. I took quite a lot of important things, so it's difficult to pin down which one was the best."

"Okay then, what was your favorite theft? Like, the most fun you've ever had on a heist?"

"My favorite theft," Kurama trailed off, growing thoughtful for a moment before he smiled fondly. "It was by no means a thing of any value, just a useless trinket, and I only took it because I knew it would annoy her to no end."

"Her...is this the same woman you were talking about earlier today? The woman you cared for?" Misaki asked as Kurama nodded. "The one you and Sojobo have so much bad blood over?"

"Our rivalry predated her appearance in my life, I'm afraid. But yes, it was the same woman from that story."

"What'd you take?" 

"A necklace," Kurama said. "It was small with an hourglass pendant at the end of a golden chain. The most interesting part of it was that there was actually sand in the hourglass. I'm sure I still have it around somewhere, if I cared to look for it again."

"Wait, you stole it as a joke and didn't even give it back?" Misaki balked. "How cruel!"

"I have every intention of returning it," Kurama huffed, "someday."

"She's still alive?"

"Yes," Kurama's expression was unreadable, "although I'm sure she's forgotten about it by now."

Misaki swallowed her next question. Whoever this woman was he was still clearly hung up on her, and so she bit her tongue. A moment later the door to the kitchen open and Yusuke strolled in.

"Ey, there you are!" Yusuke cried. "I've been looking all over the place for you, Kurama." His eyes drifted around the room, and when he spotted Misaki he nodded. "Hey Trouble, how you doing?"

"Trouble?" Misaki quirked a brow.

"Yeah, I thought it was fitting," Yusuke shrugged, grinning wolfishly as he turned his attention back to Kurama. "Anyway, Hiei's just shown up. Looks like we're crossing the streams after all."

Kurama did not look surprised as he dried his hands on a towel. "Yes, I thought as much. So we'll be working with Mukuro from now on."

"Seems like it," Yusuke grimaced, showing just how he felt about that idea. "We're meeting up in the shrine to exchange what we've got so far."

Misaki pretended not to hear them and continued to dry the dishes, humming tunelessly to herself. She wouldn't lie and say she wasn't curious about their hunt for Suna. The demon had, after all, sicced one of his lackeys on her, but she also knew it wasn't her place to pry. Still, curiosity was a damnable thing.

"Hey," Yusuke addressed her, "You don't mind if I borrow him for a bit?"

Misaki made a show of eyeing the two of them, letting her gaze slip between them as if she were a parent assessing their child and his date. Then she sighed as dramatically as she could. "I suppose I can part with him. Just have him home by ten o'clock. And remember, Kurama; if you're in trouble, all you have to do is call me. I'd rather be woken up at one in the morning by you than by the police."

"Yeah, I know, okay," Kurama whined, his impression of a moody teenager uncanny.

With that he left with Yusuke and Misaki finished up doing the dishes. She felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off of her chest. Dare she think it, but she felt as if she were making a friend among the demons, and having someone to rely on was comforting. She didn't feel as alone, and with her confidence replenishing she decided to go and track down the rest of the girls.

Misaki found Keiko having tea with Yukina in the living room. They shifted so she could sit beside them and soon after she was holding a steaming mug of tea, the flavor having turned slightly bitter from steeping too long. Still, Misaki clung to it like a lifeline, the warmth seeping into her palms a great distraction from her own discomfort and the earthy aroma calming her as she'd breathed it in. Perhaps it had been too soon to seek out the company of other people, as whatever comfort Kurama had just brought her had ebbed away the second she'd found the two. A small niggling piece of insecurity had sprouted back up in her mind. Surely they'd both heard about the morning's mishap, but they hadn't yet asked her about it. The only indication that they knew was the way Keiko's eyes would lock with her own, concern shooting through every part of her expression, and how Yukina always leaped up to fill her cup every time it was emptied. They acted as if she hadn't freaked out and embarrassed herself and Misaki felt eternally grateful. It was as if she were being given a second chance at making a good impression, and she was not going to waste it.

"Have you eaten yet?" Yukina asked, neatly folding her hands in her lap after having poured the last of the tea into Misaki's cup.

"Yeah, Kurama grabbed me some before it was gone. It was absolutely delicious, by the way," Misaki complimented.

"It was just my usual," Yukina blinked. "Keiko was telling me that you an excellent cook, actually. I hope that I can have something you've made some day."

"You're both really good," Keiko sighed, dejected. "I know some basic things, but the only one I'm really good at is ramen."

"Hey, there's something to be said for a good bowl of ramen," Misaki encouraged.

They traded culinary origin stories and it came to light that Yukina did most of the temple's domestic tasks. The cooking, cleaning, and laundry were all done by its resident ice maiden not because she was being forced to, but because she had volunteered. She did not go much into it, but a few years ago Yukina had suddenly left the glacier where her family lived and moved into the temple as a permanent boarder. The way Yukina retold the events, the icy expression that marred her usually sweet face intrigued Misaki, but she did not pry. It was obviously a touchy subject, and Misaki wasn't about to ruin her second chance only a few minutes in. With no marketable skills and tears that turned into precious gemstones (which required a long digression to explain, and ended with Misaki staring at Yukina with awe) she could not go out and get herself a job like most of the other demons could. But she refused to be a freeloader, so she helped out wherever she could. In lieu of rent, she did all of the chores.

Which was a dizzying amount, Misaki thought. She got winded just cleaning her half of the dorm room, never mind the whole of the temple. It seemed like a vastly huge space; the thought of sweeping and washing the floors alone was enough to put a crick in her neck. And never mind all the laundry...if the demons went out and trained every day there must be a constant pile of things that needed to be washed. Misaki was lost to her imagination when Keiko offered their assistance. She opened her mouth to object, but Keiko pinched her. One look at Yukina was all it took to silence her protests; the girl just looked so pleased that she was going to get some help, and while Misaki moped a list of chores was devised and divided among them. When it was split three-ways they didn't look so bad; Keiko and Yukina would handle breakfast, Yukina and Misaki had lunch, and Keiko and Misaki would cook dinner. Laundry was done on Fridays, and just as Misaki had predicted it was an apocalyptic amount, and so they agreed that they would all tackle it together. T he rest of the cleaning would be done as needed.

Once saddled with an unwanted workload, the girls were disturbed by a noise that echoed deep within the temple. It started softly then grew as the source came closer. A second after Misaki had identified the sound as a scream the door was flung open and a beast of a man barreled in. He was tall, perhaps not taller than some of the demons here, but for a human he was massive, with a blog of bright orange hair styled into an orange pompadour that shadowed a rather homely face. It did not take long for her to figure out that this was Kuwabara. He scanned the room, found Yukina, and he was on the move again. In a flash he was kneeling before her, his head bowed reverently and her thin hands clasped in his massive ones.

"Yukina, my love!" He cried, "Your knight in shining armor has returned! I hope you weren't too lonely without your Kuwa-chan!"

Misaki peered uncertainly at Keiko, but the other girl only laughed and shook her head. Yukina didn't look put-off, in fact if anything she acted as if this were all normal for her. Did Kuwabara accost her like this every time he saw her? It must be exhausting. If Yukina thought the same it did not show; she merely smiled at him as she gently released his grasp from her.

"I've been well, Kazuma," she greeted, "and I haven't been lonely at all. There are plenty of people in the temple who have kept me company."

Kuwabara was crestfallen as he fell backwards onto his butt. "Oh, Yukina...you're supposed to say something like, 'Every second away from you, my dearest Kuwabara, was agony!'"

Yukina raised her brows. "Why would I say that?"

"How's school going, Kuwabara?" Keiko interjected, hiding her mirth behind her hand.

"Nothing I can't handle!" Like a rubber ball, Kuwabara bounced back. He was on his feet in an instant, his fist raised as he posed victoriously before them. "Projects, assignments, midterms, finals! Bring 'em on! I'll pound each of 'em into the dust!"

"So your dumbass is failing?" a voice snickered from the doorway, and Kuwabara turned on Yusuke who had just entered.

"Shut it, Urameshi!" Kuwabara howled, thrusting a finger in Yusuke's face. "At least I got into college, Mr. High-School-Drop-Out!"

"What the hell did you just say to me, you punk!?" Yusuke hollered, snatching Kuwabara's collar and hauling him until they were nose to nose.

"I said-"

"Please, please, guys." Kurama interrupted, forcing his way in between the two and raising his hands placatingly. "Kuwabara, It's good to see you."

"Oh, hey Kurama!" the anger in his voice ebbed away as quickly as it had appeared, and as the two spoke Genkai slipped into the doorway with another figure. He was short with spiky black hair and eyes so intense that they made her shiver, even though he'd only looked at her in passing. He slipped quietly towards the back wall and leaned against it, eyes drifting shut as if he intended to fall asleep right then and there. Koenma's brief description of Hiei had not done him justice; there was an intensity about him that was just unnerving, and Misaki felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She did not want to have him standing directly behind her, and she was plotting just how to subtly change seats when Kurama sat beside her, crossing his legs. This alleviated the tension, but only somewhat.

As they caught up, and Kurama broke up several potential fights between Kuwabara and Yusuke (seriously, Misaki couldn't decide if they were friends or not), their conversation eventually turned towards their combined mission. They began to fill Kuwabara in.

"Hiei says he has been tracking Suna ever since he slipped past the border. He has the ability to turn himself into sand, and if even one grain manages to escape he can reform his body someplace else. It's made him incredibly elusive," Kurama summarized.

"I saw that for myself," Yusuke gritted his teeth. "I thought I finally had that son-of-a-bitch, but he slipped right through my fingers." His brow furrowed. "He was also super strong, too."

"He is an S-Class Demon," Hiei snapped from the corner, and Misaki felt herself jump. Kurama bumped his knee against hers comfortingly. "Don't get over cocky."

"Coming from you, that's rich," Kuwabara snorted.

"He's also incredibly intelligent," Kuwabara sighed before another fight could break out.

"Yeah, usually most demons are just like," and here Kuwabara punched his hand, "but this guy was smart enough to know who'd end up coming after him."

"And research his pursuers' weaknesses," Kurama's brow furrowed. The tone of the room grew tense as all eyes shifted to Keiko. Then, slowly, one-by-one their focused turned towards Misaki. She shifted uncomfortably as they seized her up, or more appropriately, assessed just what her involvement meant. Suna was single-minded in whatever purpose he had devised for himself; he did not care who got in his way. Casualties were just something that happened and nothing to concern himself over, if Misaki was any indication of that.

"When I got to my mother's house there were several low-level demons there scouting the property," Kurama continued.

"Shit, Kurama," Yusuke swore, "was everyone alright?"

"Yes, I was able to get there just in time," Kurama's expression darkened, however, and the fact that he had almost not made it echoed throughout the room and left a chill in the air.

"There were some demons poking at my wards as well," Genkai grumbled. "That's not unusual in and of itself. A lot of bastards want to get into this place, but now I'm wondering if they were also trying to do some recon," for a second she split her attention between Hiei and Yukina, then crossed towards the back doors and opened them. A cool breeze swept in, but it did little to help alleviate the dense atmosphere. "So we know that Suna has lackeys. Nothing too hard, maybe upper D rank at best, but definitely enough of a following that these demons would be willing to break the law and attack humans." Genkai turned back towards Keiko and Misaki, a tight frown adding more wrinkles to her face. "It looks like you two girls are going to have to stay here until this Suna business is done with."

The roomed grew quiet as everyone fell into a reverie. Misaki watched them, her nerves on edge at what they had just learned, and fear for her roommate's safety blotted out little else. And Kurama's family...and hadn't Kuwabara mentioned a sister earlier? Every person that these people had befriended or knew were in danger, and she could only imagine what they were feeling at the moment. Yusuke had his hands balled into fists, his fingers curled with such force that his nails bit pale crescent moons into his palms. His shoulders were trembling. Genkai looked out over the grounds, her brow furrowed and her shoulders rigid as Kuwabara sat cross-legged on the floor, hmming as if he were deep in thought. She could not see Hiei. However, she could feel his anger as it dripped off of him. Unlike Yusuke's, which could be satisfied with a good thrashing, Hiei's rage was deep. It was the closest thing to true hatred that Misaki had ever felt before, and a cold sweat dripped down her back. She needed something to distract herself, and so she turned at last to Kurama and started when her eyes met his. He was watching her. His expression was so unreadable and his eyes were so hard that they made her heart pound. Whatever he was feeling so intensely was directed at her, and it made her pulse race. She was mesmerized and unable to tear her gaze away until Hiei pushed off the wall with a derisive snort.

"I don't care how much research he's done, it will not change his fate." Misaki craned her neck to see him. The fire she'd felt hadn't died down; instead it had been internalized. It was like watching the waves of a storm recede while knowing that a tsunami was coming. "He will die at my hand." With that he left, hopping out the back door and onto the grass of the gardens beyond. He cast a glare back at them through the doorway. "Just try not to get in my way." And he was gone. It happened so quickly that Misaki wondered if he had ever really been there in the first place. Kurama nudged her with his knee again as if to say that he understood how unnerving Hiei was and not to worry about it.

"Let us not talk about this anymore," Kurama suggested. "All we're doing is worrying the girls." Keiko's face was drawn, her wide eyes staring at Yusuke with a resigned fear in them. It was as if the danger he put himself was not unexpected, but still jarring nonetheless. Yukina was also not unaffected, and she stared at the spot that Hiei had disappeared from. "It seems we've ruined their tea..."

Kurama knew how to play a room, she'd give him that, and at the mention of their previous activity Yukina jumped to her feet and offered to make another pot. She rushed off before anyone could stop her and Kuwabara flopped down into her spot. He began to babble on and on about how much of a treat Yukina's tea was, and how even when they were married and he got to drink it daily he would still enjoy every cup. Yusuke called him something unkind, and in a few minutes the raucous mood returned with a vengeance. T he only ones unable to shake off their melancholy was Misaki and Keiko who sat quietly side-by-side. It just seemed wrong to be this joyful after what they'd just learned; there was a maniac after their loved ones, and here they were joking around. Why weren't they taking this more seriously? She quietly excused herself, missing how, for just a moment, Kurama's hand rose to stop her before falling uselessly back into his lap.

Making her way back to her room, it was not long before footsteps caught up with her and Keiko sidled silently to her side. The two girls walked in silence for a minute before Misaki said anything.

"How did you react when you first learned about the spirit world?" Misaki asked.

"I fainted," Keiko sighed. "It was all so hard to believe. Some days it still is too much for me. Watching Yusuke fight and come home injured...every time Koenma calls him I feel as if my head might explode. He's so strong, but I always wonder if this will be the time he doesn't come back to me, and the thought of life without him is unbearable." Tears welled up in her eyes and she wiped them away hurriedly. "You're actually handling it much better than I did."

"I don't feel like I'm handling it at all," Misaki laughed bitterly. "I just spent the whole day in my room because I almost died, remember?"

"I once went into shock so badly that I didn't realize the stadium we were in was exploding around me," Keiko smiled, though it was half-heated at best. "At least you were able to walk to your room with your own two feet."

"If this life does this to you, why do you stay?" Misaki asked, although she already knew the answer.

"Because I love Yusuke," Keiko blushed. "I want to be there for him and support him in whatever way I can...plus..." her eyes grew distant, "he's so happy here. He looks so at peace when he's fighting, as if this is where he's truly meant to be. I wouldn't take that away from him just because it makes him uncomfortable."

The two stepped inside of their rooms and set up their beds. It was still a bit too early to go to sleep, but neither of them wanted to talk to anyone anymore. Misaki's head was spinning again as she pulled the covers up over her face and drifted into an uneasy sleep. She wondered when her foray into the spirit world would become fun.

A/N: Ahhh this week was so emotionally draining! It seemed as if I couldn't get a spare minute to catch my breath, and I literally want nothing more than to collapse into my bed for an eternity. But living near a college campus and the impending holidays means that more than one drunken screaming match will occur. Oh well. Perhaps the sleep deprivation will spark creativity? Most famous writers wrote while inebriated, right? Anyway, a big thank you to everyone who came to check my story out! Next chapter we'll see the gang head out to do some shopping with the temple's program residents, and investigate a possible Suna sighting. How will Misaki react when she comes face to face with the notorious demon himself?


	5. Chapter 5: Retail Therapy

A/N: Last week, Misaki learned that not everything was all sunshine and rainbows. There are very real, and very scary threats that the Spirit World has to offer, and this time around Misaki is going to come face to face with one of them.

Breakfast at the temple was an experience. While many of the demons tended to skip out on lunch and dinner they all tended to turn up for the most important meal of the day. Misaki took a deep breath before the training room which had been refurbished into a dining room. The thin walls did nothing to dampen the noise and the sheer volume of their voices reminded her that this was the first time she'd be facing them since she'd turned tail the other day. She could not avoid them forever, and any reservations she had needed to be ripped off like a band aid; quick, though painful. Gathering herself, she pushed the doors open with a fake smile plastered over her uncertainty. As her mother would say, "Fake it 'till you make it."

Several chabudai were scattered throughout the room and at each gathered a group of demons kneeling on tatami mats. Chu and Rinku were sitting with a demon who had bright red hair and single horn, as well as a demon with sharp eyes and icy blue hair. At the end was a plain looking man with a shock of dirty blonde hair who seemed to be leading the conversation, despite how often Chu attempted to interrupt. It seemed as if every table was equally filled, including the one that the former spirit detectives had staked out. Kurama had not noticed her when she came in as his head was lowered towards Yusuke. Misaki figured they were talking about Suna, and not wanting to intrude or eavesdrop she continued to survey the room for a free spot. She felt like a kid in the lunch room, white-knuckling a tray as she wondered which kids would bully her least. She'd just about given up and had resigned herself to eating by her lonesome in a bathroom stall when a deep voice called out to her.

"Misaki, there is a space over here," Sojobo called as he and his table shifted to make room for her.

The simple act of kindness was all it took to turn her fake grin into a real one. She took her seat beside Sojobo, whose wings opened and closed behind her as if she were walking through a feathery sliding door as he made introductions.

"How were your lessons yesterday?" Misaki asked once they'd gone around the table.

"It went well," Sojobo replied. "It is all review for me, naturally, however there is value in repetition. I mostly acted as Genkai's assistant, facilitating lessons."

The epic eye roll from the demon opposite her was all the confirmation she needed; human or demon, TA's were always useless.

"Anything fun and new coming up?" Misaki asked, not because she was particularly interested, but because she knew that the second everyone stopped talking things would get awkward. She felt as if not a lot of talking actually occurred at whichever table Sojobo had seated himself at.

"We've been planning a shopping trip with everyone, however," Sojobo paused, his attention meandering towards the former detectives, "with Suna on the loose it does not appear as if we'll have enough chaperons."

The demon across from her bristled at the idea of needing a chaperone. He was about to retort, however the girl sitting next to him must have kicked him hard. He let out a yelp and glared at her, but it was enough to keep him silent. Sojobo was not, apparently, the most popular guy at the temple. She suspected that whatever authority he had was self-appointed and confronting him about it was simply too exhausting. So they let him be, handing him useless task after useless task to keep him happy and feeling self important. She was certain that since he had been a former king relinquishing power had not been all that easy for him.

Of course, Sojobo hadn't been a real, traditional King, she'd learned the other night. Kurama had explained to her about how Spirit World ranked demons while they were doing dishes, and that those who were A-Class were often the subject of fairy tales and stories. Like most myths, he'd advised, there was only a grain of truth and the rest were fabrications. Sojobo didn't make the rules or lord over the Tengus; he was simply the most powerful one among them. At one point someone had started calling him a King, and he'd just rolled with it. In fact, rather than try to dispel the rumors he'd fanned them along until people began calling him a King, which was another point of contention between him and Kurama.

Kurama had never pretended to be anything that he wasn't. He was a thief, a scoundrel, and he was unimaginably cruel. He did not delve deeper into his past than that and Misaki had been quick to change the topic. She'd asked what he ranked as, and with a tinge of pride he'd said back then, and in the present day, he was considered and S-Class Demon while Sojobo had remained at a steady A-Class. It was a subtle brag but it was one that did not slip past Misaki.

She leaned out over her plumed cover so she could see the rest of the room, tilting her head curiously at Kurama. It was hard to believe that he was stronger than the man beside her, who boasted a ten-foot wingspan and was the subject of many a legend in Japanese folklore. He looked just as human as anyone else she'd ever seen. To think that he could easily thrash someone so much larger than him...

He looked up from his conversation as if he could feel her watching him. He frowned at her choice of companionship and Misaki shrugged in response, mouthing that there was nowhere else to sit. Besides, if he really hadn't wanted her to sit with Sojobo than he should have been more perceptive, she thought with a huff. As he frowned, she stuck her tongue out at him and turned back towards her own table. One of the demons had made the grave mistake of asking Sojobo a question, which the tengu had taken as an opportunity to turn into a full on lecture. Already one of the demons was dosing off as Sojobo went on and on, and feeling bad for her earlier slight, she peeked back at Kurama. He was still watching her with a frown, so she raised her hand and touched her fingers to her thumb in quick succession, rolling her eyes.

'He talks so much,' she mouthed, and Kurama smirked, mimicking her shrug from earlier. For a second she thought he'd even blow a raspberry back at her, but instead he scooted closer to Yusuke, freeing up the space beside him. He patted it a few times then beckoned her over. For a second, self-perseverance waged against her manners; it would be incredibly rude to leave a table after she'd already settled in. But just how longer could she stand Sojobo's rattling? She turned back to Sojobo, whose detailed description about turnstiles had lulled another demon at the table to sleep, before grabbing her place setting and ducking out beneath his wing. She crossed the room as stealthily as she could, though she suspected Sojobo wouldn't have noticed regardless, then plopped down next to a chuckling Kurama.

"Thanks for the save," she sighed as she began making room for her dishes. "Man, he likes to hear himself talk."

"And much like his animal counterpoint nobody else likes to listen to him," Kurama tried to shift a bit more to give her some more space. With the added seat the table was cramped. Misaki was sitting in the middle of two mats and in an effort to make herself as small as possible, her leg was pressed up against Kurama's. He tried to put as much distance as he could between them, but it was impossible without bumping into Yusuke. His politeness was endearing and Misaki would be lying if she said his body heat was unpleasant.

"Don't worry about it," she laughed it off, rubbing her leg with her own. Kurama flushed which only made her want to tease him more. "I kind of like it."

Kurama must have choked on his own spit as he started coughing and sputtering, but the noise was covered up by the door opening once more. Keiko and Yukina pushed a cart filled with food in, and as the savory smells hit her nose her stomach grumbled. They dished it out to each table, at last making their way to Misaki, and once everything was distributed the girls joined them. Yukina sat at Misaki's right and gave her a quick, curious, look.

"Sojobo," she explained and Yukina gave her a knowing smile. "Anyway, c'mon and squish in. We're all friends here, right?"

In contrast to Kurama's warmth, Yukina's body temperature was freezing as she pressed in close enough to fit onto her mat.

The room filled with conversation as everyone ate. Their voices rolled over Misaki like waves, cresting and falling in unison though occasionally someone's voice, usually Chu's, would rise above the rest. The out of context mark would spark another round of noise, the sound crashing down over the room once more. At her table, Yusuke and Kuwabara stabbed at each other with their chopsticks, insults light on their tongues as they tried to steal bits of food from each other. Keiko looked on and would rebuke them on occasion, though that did not stop her from stealing a few bites off of Yusuke's plate. When the insurmountable task of finding Suna threatened to turn the mood somber, Kurama knew just what to say and to whom to keep the flames stoked.

Misaki took it all in with a hollow feeling and an uneasy smile, wondering if she should have stayed at Sojobo's table and tried to endure his lectures. Kurama and his friends were acting out a play that she did not know the words to, one which had no part for her in it. It left her feeling shy. Even though she was in the center of the table, flanked by Kurama and Yukina with Keiko just across the way, she felt completely alone. Tight-knit did not even begin to describe the friendship the group had – it was more like protons and neutrons, bound together by a force so great it could overcome gravity. And she was just a puny electron, buzzing around the electron cloud in the periphery with the rest of those who'd been drawn in by the nucleus' overwhelming power. It was no wonder that Keiko had thrown back her hand of friendship so many times; who needed Misaki's loyalty when she could have this unshakable bond? It made her jealous and defeated all at the same time, but she took a deep breath and did her best to shake the feeling off. Hanging out with new people was always awkward. It would take some time, but she was certain she could find her place in all this. She would learn the ebb and flow of their conversations.

When everything was devoured Yukina and Keiko set out some tea and began to clear away the dishes. Misaki leaped up to help, but before she could get out of her seat Yukina squeezed her shoulder.

"It's alright," she smiled. "You have lunch and dinner, after all."

Dejected, she sank back down and sighed. Not fitting in and overwhelmed her with the desire to at least be useful to them. She felt as if she had to prove she could do something of value to be accepted, but even her simple attempt at helping had been denied. She knew that wasn't how Yukina had intended it but it was difficult not to think that way when her train of thought was already pulling into dejection station. Plus, she suddenly found the crowded room stiffing and wanted to escape into a smaller group.

A few minutes after Keiko and Yukina had cleared everything away, Botan appeared through the outside door. She slipped her shoes off on the porch then closed the door with a snap. Launching herself at the teapot, she poured herself a cup and warmed her hands over it, sighing.

"It is cold outside," she declared. " It's almost time to break out the kotatsu!"

"Good morning, Botan," Kurama greeted. "Any news from the Spirit World?"

"Straight to business then," she huffed. " Not even a 'How are you, Botan?' Alright then," she set the cup down as everyone crowded in.

Misaki should have left. They were obviously meeting about Suna and she felt that, in any police investigation briefings were classified. Yet she was incredibly curious. She wanted to learn more about the guy who had sent a demon to attack Keiko, and before she could make up her mind Botan began.

"Lord Koenma has heard of several Suna sightings all within the same, small, area," Botan informed, filling them in on exactly where the sightings were.

"It's probably his base of operations," Genkai grunted from the head of the table. "If he's as organize as we're being lead to believe then it's impossible for him not to have a command center. You can't have minions while being transient."

"Yet if we tip him off that we know where he is an search the area there is a decent chance that he'll get spooked and run. It would be impossible to search such a large area with just us before he catches wind of us and flees," Kurama frowned. "In addition, there is a large strip mall there; if a fight were to break out the casualties would be immense. He might have taken Yusuke one-on-one, but against the four of us I doubt he would stay and fight. Worst case scenario, he might take hostages."

There was a thoughtful pause from everyone as they mulled the problem over. Misaki did as well, her lips tightening into a frown. If she were being honest, the mention of casualties had turned her blood to ice. She had been very close to being a thoughtless victim in Suna's schemes and the thought of anyone else being hurt as she had was difficult to bare. How many people had he already killed, and how many more would be needed before he achieved his goal? What even was his goal? There were too many questions about his motive, and Misaki found that 'mindless destruction' wasn't his ideal outcome. A demon that smart had to have a purpose, and until they found out what it was they would need to treat carefully. It was then that an idea struck her, and coughing, she offered her two cents.

"You're worried that he'll be looking out for all of you since you're all kind of high-profile, right?" she began uncertainly. The full attention of the table was on her, and she felt herself weakening under the weight. She swallowed the lump in her throat before plowing ahead, "But what if you had someone else look for you?" She motioned towards the rest of the room and the demons who were still gathered there. Half of them quickly returned to their tea, feigning conversation to mask their eavesdropping. "Sojobo was saying that they've been trying to plan a shopping trip, so why not let them go? You guys could go to, as chaperones, and maybe Suna will think you're just there coincidentally?" A deafening silence filled the table and she nervously picked at a hangnail. "I dunno...it was just a thought."

"So, we pretend we don't know he's there and he stretches his forces thin trying to keep tabs on us," Genkai hummed. "It could work if we play our cards right."

"We would need to be extremely careful," Kurama was smiling. Briefly his hand brushed against her knee, squeezing gently, and the touch made her jump. Her immediate response was to tell him off, but for some reason he looked tickled, nostalgic even. "We would have to schedule times when one or two of us could disappear without arousing suspicions. Plus if we are playing chaperone, our wards can only be gone for so long before we 'notice' them missing.

The rest of the morning went by in a blur of planning while Misaki rode the high that came with them having picked up her scheme. Eventually everyone was gathered together once more to assign parts, and by the time Misaki had set dinner out Genkai had polished the plan. Everything had been plotted; there were contingency plans to contingency plans, which seemed a bit excessive to Misaki as it was impossible to prepare for everything. Still, knowing that there was a backup did make her feel a bit better.

Nobody slept well that night. The excitement for the next day's trip crackled like electricity through the air, and throughout the evening Misaki kept hearing doors opening and closing as the demons crept into each others rooms to talk. She'd learned that the detectives were celebrities in the Demon world, their exploits well renowned and retold over and over again. It was to be expected, being some of the most powerful creatures in the world (Misaki found it hard to believe that Yusuke could really destroy a mountain by pointing his finger at it), and the program's residents wanted to have a role in the next part of their legend. They wanted to be that "uncle from Nintendo" that every middle school pretended to have.

By the time Misaki was ready the next morning, their eagerness had reached apocalyptic levels. She'd been awoken long before her alarm as everyone rushed around her, yelling and screaming down the hallway as they all prepared for their rare trip into the depths of the human world. Breakfast was skipped since the train ride would be a long one. Misaki tugged on her gloves as she stepped out into the cold morning light and discovering that all of the demons had gathered in front of the temple for an inspection of some sort. They stood in a haphazard line as Genkai marched up and down them, eyeing each demon with a critical eye.

"She does this every time they go out," Kurama explained, causing her to start. She hadn't heard him walk up to her. He was bundled up in a long wool coat with a scarf tied securely around his neck. The shopping center, as it turned out, was outside, and the day did not look as if it were going to be getting much warmer. He looked good in his winter wear, the earthy tones of his coat and the autumn colors in his scarf making his hair look redder than usual. "Genkai checks to see if they are dressed appropriately."

"To make sure no horns or anything are peeking out?"

"Exactly."

Genkai stood before the young man with blue hair she'd seen at breakfast the other day. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, and while he had no unusual appendages that she could see, Genkai wasn't happy with how he looked. The two argued back and forth before the demon jammed his hands in his pockets and stalked back towards the temple.

"So, if they do get dress-coded, do they have to go to the principal's office? Do their moms bring them a change of clothes?" Kurama chuckled. "But seriously, what was wrong with what he was wearing? I mean, you don't get much more typical than jeans and a T-shirt."

"Touya is an ice demon, similar to Yukina. They do not feel the cold like you and I would. In fact, a day like today is practically tropical for him," Kurama shrugged. A chill wind whipped around them, biting through her jacket and causing her to bury deeper into her scarf. "It's too cold to go out in just jeans and a T-shirt. It would arose suspicion. The whole point of the program is to assimilate demons without their true nature being known. The human world isn't ready for that sort of thing just yet."

Touya reappeared a few minutes later wearing a sweater that was the same pale blue color as his hair and a thick scarf. Genkai frowned, perhaps having hoped for a jacket of some kind, but it was a vast improvement and she grudgingly passed him. Once everyone was cleared they began separating into their groups. Misaki followed Kurama as the blue haired demon, the blonde from lunch, and a young monkey demon gathered around him.

"Which group am I in?" Misaki asked after Kurama had finished briefing his team.

Kurama quirked a brow. "You're coming along?"

"Well, yeah. It is my plan, after all. I want to see it all the way through. Plus, I really need to pick up some things."

"We might be waltzing headlong into danger," Kurama frowned. "Are you sure your shopping couldn't wait for another time?"

"Nope," she shook her head fervently. "I desperately need underwear. All Keiko packed for me were these ugly granny panties and I hear that mall has the cutest lingerie shop."

Kurama turned the same color as his hair. Whatever he was imagining was vivid and the shock was painted all over his face. He swallowed heavily, the spit going down the wrong tube as he began to cough violently into his elbow. When he was done there were tears in the corner of his eyes and he struggled to take a deep breath before gasping out, "Very well, then. You may join me."

"You sure you can handle that?" Misaki teased as the group began the long decent down the stairs. "You can barely handle the mention of lingerie, never mind when we actually go in and I have to try stuff on."

"The difference will be preparation," Kurama replied as he stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked everywhere but at her. "I will join the legion of men outside waiting for their wives to finish."

"How noble of you."

Kurama did not reply, but his cheeks were so hot that Misaki bet she could boil a pot of water on them.

It was Misaki's first real encounter with The Stairs and by the time she got to the bottom her legs felt like jello. Keiko had not been kidding when she said that they were a trial in and of themselves; Misaki felt that Genkai should install some checkpoints along the way. A minibar half way up, just to revitalize the spirit. The thought of climbing back up them again was exhausting her already, and she wondered if there were a way around it. Maybe she could get someone to carry her back up? Botan and her oar were out of the question; she was busy with the spirit world at the moment, which left one of her group. If she could get to Chu at some point in the day she was certain she could convince him. A nice bottle of sake would do the trick. She glanced at her team members; they were all lithe and slender, and while she knew that under their graceful limbs were muscles capable of far more than she cold imagine, she doubted any of them would carry her up.

The car Botan had brought her in had disappeared, much to Misaki's dismay. They began the long trek to the train station, and by the time they got there Misaki was ready to collapse. She flung herself onto the nearest bench as the team leaders headed to the ticket booth to buy the tickets. The monkey demon perched next to her, and Touya and blonde guy flanked the edges.

"You alright?" the girl asked with a curious tilt of her head. Even with her tail hidden, her ears were still larger than normal.

"Stairs," Misaki mumbled.

Despite not being out of breath, the girl said, "Yeah, I wish I could say you get used to them, but you really don't."

Misaki gave her a hard look which caused the girl to cackle.

"Empathy training and small talk one-oh-one," she winked. "Assess the situation, respond appropriately. A text book execution if you ask me. My name's Kotei, by the way."

"Well, Kotei, I'd give that a B+," Misaki graded. "It'd have been a bit more convincing if you were winded, too."

"I'll keep that in mind," she shrugged in the way someone would when they plan on immediately forgetting some sage advice. "Anyway, that's Touya and blondie is Suzaku. I gotta say, I'm psyched that you decided to come along. A real trip into the human world with a human? It's like I'm gonna get all the inside info."

"I've never been here before," Misaki replied. "So I'm not sure how good I'll be as a guide. Plus...aren't you a bit worried? Like, about the mission and everything?"

It was Touya who answered, shaking his head solemnly. "Not particularly. Most of the demons at the Temple are A or S class and are used to combat. Suna doesn't scare us."

The groups boarded the train shortly afterwards, careful to head into different carts. While the station was remote and usually not populated, the whole group of them together in one car would raise suspicions. They were a rowdy bunch, too comfortable among each other, which could lead to slip-up that would reveal their supernatural abilities. As Kurama had said earlier, Japan wasn't ready for that sort of thing, though Misaki hoped that someday it would be. How cool would it be to have a friend who could fly you to work every morning? Or a road crew that could dead lift tons of cement over their heads without a second thought? 

Misaki sat next to Kurama while the others settled in across from them. The more stops they passed, the more crowded the car began, and soon Kotei had spun around in her chair to make faces at the children in the seats behind them. As the time ticked by Misaki became aware that maybe she shouldn't have tagged along. Touya's words kept coming back to her. Combat, fighting, they weren't afraid because they could handle these things. Had it been the ice demon in front of that demon a week ago he wouldn't so much as flinched when he was backhanded. Hell, it probably wouldn't even have left a bruise, yet it had broken Misaki almost permanently. And he'd looked just like anyone else, too. She scanned the crowd, her mouth dry. Any one of them could be a demon in disguise. The doors opened at the next station and Misaki watched a young businessman board. W hat was he hiding under his suit? A tail? Horns?

"What's wrong?" Kurama's smile was gentle, his words low so as to not draw the attention of his team. He searched her face for a few minutes before continuing, "It's alright, you're perfectly safe with us. Even if things don't go exactly as planned I'll be sure that no harm comes to you."

"I mean, thanks, but coming face to face with your own mortality twice in such a short amount of time really does leave an impression."

Kurama did not reply but instead leaned in close. He raised his hand and for a second Misaki thought he was going to touch her face. She flushed at the supposed forwardness, but instead his fingers found the petals of the rose that was still laced through her hair. The flower had opened in the presence of its master, and while he did not touch her directly he might as well have. Every tiny stroke felt like a finger running down her spine, and she shivered as a pleasant tingle raced through her and sucked away her breath.

"As long as you hold onto this you'll be alright," Kurama said, withdrawing his hand. He began to dig around in his pockets, "but, if it will make you feel any better I suppose I could give you another good luck charm." He found the right pocket at last and produced a necklace. It was simple, a chord of leather attached to a small glass ornament. It was old, the leather well worn and scarred, the glass tarnished, and yet despite its age the small hourglass was still in tact. She inspected it, surprised to find a few gains of sand in the chambers. "I found the necklace I was telling you about the other day."

"The one you stole?" her eyes widened. "Is it really okay for you to give that to me?"

"I'm not giving it to you," he said, motioning for her to spin around so he could put it on. "I'll take it back from you someday, but for now you're welcome to borrow it."

Uncertain, she turned and lifted up the back of her hair as he wrapped the cord gently around her throat. Every time his fingers brushed against the sensitive hairs on the back of her neck she jumped. It felt like his fingers were kissing her, and each unexpected touch set her nerves on fire. It wasn't a warm, cozy feeling, but a passionate burning one that Misaki didn't quite not how to handle. Kurama was taking his dear sweet time as well, his usually deft fingers suddenly clumsy as he fumbled with the clasp, prolonging the amount of time he was behind her. The only tell that he was messing with her was the reflection in the mirror; he had a devilish look of innocence on his face.

He leaned in so that his breath tickled her ears. Then, so softly she swore she'd imagined it, he whispered, "Pay back's a bitch, Misaki."

She jumped away and pointed an accusatory finger at him. So, this was revenge for embarrassing him yesterday and the morning before? He was going to torture her, embarrass her in public? Whatever fuzzy feelings she'd been having dissipated as pure, unadulterated vengeance took their place.

"This is a war you don't want to start, Kurama," she warned.

Kurama blinked, though his smile told her that he knew exactly what she was talking about.

"You can't feign ignorance with me, mister," Misaki hugged. Touya and Suzaku exchanged bewildered looks, postulating what exactly could have happened in the few minutes when they weren't watching. Kotei spun around in her seat, having grown tired of the children and deciding that what was happening in front of her way way more entertaining.

"I haven't the faintest clue of what you're talking about," he hummed.

"Fine then," Misaki declared, "it's on! Prepare yourself, Kurama, for I will show you no mercy!"

For the rest of the trip Misaki's thoughts were consumed not with their mission, but how best to embarrass Kurama. It would be difficult, she concluded, as he'd be waiting for her to make a move. Timing would be everything; she needed to catch him off guard, however now that there was a game afoot she would not back down. There was no pride in an easy victory; a bit of challenge was what it took to make anything worthwhile.

Of course, the real reason for Kurama's antagonistic behavior wasn't just to get a rise out of her. Her thoughts, which had been spiraling around dread at whatever horrors their mission would hold, were not sufficiently distracted. Misaki only realized this by the end of the ride, and she unconsciously clutched the necklace in her fist as she stared out the window. In the short amount of time she'd known him he had done so much for her, and she knew that she would have to pay him back at some point.

They all collected on the platform, and despite the grave nature of their trip they were all buzzing with energy. They were an odd group to be sure, old and young demons alike bantering like close friends, and they certainly got their fair share of strange looks. They did not get the chance to leave the temple often; only a handful of them had work permits, and even they only went out into town, and then only with a supervisor. Each demon was also given a stipend, which Genkai handed out in neat, white, envelopes. When she got to Kurama's group she thrust one as Misaki as well.

"Oh no, that's okay," Misaki declined, "I really don't need-"

"Don't be an idiot and take the money," Genkai snapped, forcing the envelope into her hands. "Only a fool turns down free money." She likewise gave one to Kurama who received it without complaint. Bewildered, Misaki watched her go.

"This doesn't come out of Genkai's own pocket," he explained. "Years ago the Spirit World seized the assets of a black market mogul, so do not feel shy about accepting it. Still, if you'd feel more comfortable not using it, I can always slip it back to Genkai when she's unaware."

"Money has never really been an issue for me," Misaki shrugged. "My parents are both really well off and my grandparents are straight up rich. My grandma even offered to get me my own apartment so I didn't have to live in the dorms, but I really, really wanted a roommate so..."

"Strange. Most people dread having to live with a stranger."

"Yeah but...I'm an only child so living with other people is still a novelty for me," Misaki thumbed through the contents of the envelope, suddenly unsure about telling Kurama her desire to be friends with Keiko. She really hadn't given her initial plan much thought since she'd been injured; it seemed like such a silly thing to want in the grand scheme of things. Her mind was quickly redirected as she counted the money in the envelope, her eyes bugging out of her skull. 11,500 yen. Multiply that by each demon and...just how rich had that black market guy been?

In the end she split the yen among Touya, Suzaku, and Kotei, who were all grateful for the little bit of cash. Kotei was practically skipping on their way to their designated area. The town had been split up into a grid and each group was tasked with investigating a few blocks. A few times per day a fraction of the group was scheduled to "slip away" from their chaperone to scout out the less savory parts.

With plenty of time to kill before Touya and Suzaku slipped away, the give began to explore. Their blocks boasted chic restaurants as well as hip clothing stores, a tabletop shop, and an assortment of other stores that were all designed to attract a young crowd. They walked through the chilly streets with their hands in their pockets, save for Touya who was tugging uncomfortably on his scarf, with Kotei and Misaki leading the charge.

"It's important not to buy something the second you see it," Misaki chided as she pulled Kotei away from a display of handbags in a window. "If you blow all your money on your first stop you won't have anything left if you really, really, really want something later."

"If I run out of money I'll just ask you to get it for me," Kotei whined. "I heard what you said earlier; you're loaded, right?"

"I said my family is rich. I never said that I was," Misaki rolled her eyes. "If you can't stop thinking about that bag by the end of the day we'll go back and get it, okay?"

By the time they'd finished patrolling the area it was time for Touya and Suzaku to sneak off. They bundled into a record store, Misaki sighing with relief as a blast of warm air hit her. Suzaku dragged Touya to one of the headphones hanging on poles among the records and began lip syncing for him. Touya was not amused, crossing his arms and purposefully looking anywhere but at his friend. Kotei had stalled at the door, eyeing the sales clerk before taking a deep breath and drawing him into a conversation. Misaki smiled as she passed them. It wasn't easy for a girl to approach a guy, she knew, but to also have the whole "I'm a demon and you're human" barrier took the challenge to a whole other level.

'You go, girl,' She thought as she tracked down Kurama.

She found him pawing through some records, looking for all the world like he was engrossed in his task. It was time to put her plan into action, then; catch him while he wasn't paying attention. She searched around for anything she could use, then grinned w hen she spotted the perfect thing. Grabbing the record, she hit it behind her back and made to sneak up on him, but before she even got close Kurama sighed.

"What is it, Misaki?" he didn't so much as turn around. So he had been paying attention...Misaki wondered if he had seen the cover of the album she'd snatched up.

"I found a picture of you."

There was a long pause as Kurama finished flipping through the records. He slowly turned to her when he was finished.

"Is it a fox?" he asked wearily.

"Nope."

"A demon, then?"

"Strike two."

"A woman?"

"Close, but no dice."

"Well I'm all out of guesses," he sighed. "Do your worst."

Misaki revealed the album with a triumphant flourish. Sprawled over the cover, with a string of pearls in his mouth, was a man in fishnet stalkings and a petty coat. It wasn't so much drag as it was a guy pretending, unsuccessfully, to imitate a woman. He wore a ratty, red wig that you could pick up at any cheap costume store, and was draped over a log in a lush garden. He'd fixed the camera with a flirtatious wink. Kurama didn't crack. The picture barely registered with him, and as he raised his eyes to hers he took the album from her.

"Is that your worst?" he asked, tucking the album back into its place. " I have to say, I'm disappointed."

"That was just a warm up," Misaki was nonplussed. "I need to gauge your level; test the waters before I dive in."

"You'll find my depths are deeper than you can handle," he looked around and Misaki followed. Touya and Suzaku were gone. Only Kotei remained, still talking with the sales clerk.

While they were there, Misaki did whatever she could to get a rise out of Kurama. She knew that her piece de resistance would be when they got to the lingerie store, and she feared that her early efforts only annoyed him. When clever failed her, she defaulted to the downright stupid, and soon she was pointing at random things and declaring them to be him. He would either agree ("Yes, I very much am a piece of garbage. Thank you for noticing, Misaki.") or outright ignore her. Only once did he retaliate, pointing out the window at a dog relieving itself.

"Hey, it's you," he said, and she smacked his arm away.

She needed to regroup, and so she settled into a stool and slipped some large headphones over her ears in the hopes that some music would inspire her. Yet immediately after hitting play, Kurama was behind her, yanking one side of the headphones away from her ear. She started and before she could ask him what he was doing he'd pressed his face against hers and dropped the other half, effectively creating a music sandwich that left Misaki sputtering and flustered.

"What are we listening to?" he asked as if what he were doing was perfectly normal.

Misaki tried to retort but all that came out was a garbled squawk. He was way too close. He hadn't so much invaded her personal bubble as commandeered it; it was no longer hers to do with as she pleased, and it was entirely subject to his whims. He would come and go as he pleased, giving her little to no say in the matter. She wondered if he could ear the way her blood rushed through her ears, or feel her face heating up.

Touya saved the day by coughing loudly behind them. "Get a room," he grimaced.

With him and Suzaku back they were free to leave the store. Suzaku ended up buying a Walkman and the cassette he'd been listening to and jammed out while Touya filled Kurama in on what they'd found. She couldn't hear the details because every time she tried to eavesdrop the conversation would suddenly stop.

Much to her dismay, as she and Kotei stepped into the lingerie store the boys waited outside. She'd have to find another way to embarrass him using whatever she found here. It wasn't hard; something super risque was easy to find in places like this. As they emerged, she shot Kurama a bright smile. He looked at her face, then to Kotei who had turned an interesting shade of red. She could see that part of him wanted to ask, but thought better of it as they continued on their way. They swung back by the handbag store so Kotei could buy the purse she'd been eyeing. It was, fittingly, a banana covered in glitter and it fit Kotei perfectly. By then it had become rather late and the group unanimously decided to get lunch It was nearly time for Kotei to slip away by the time they'd ordered and secured a table.

The cafe they'd ended up in was warm and cozy. The walls were painted beige with dark wooden trimming that gave the place a homey feeling, and the tables and chairs were a hodge podge of mismatched pieces. It was almost trying too hard to be eclectic, but the overall vibe was comfortable and the coffee was good and hot.

Kotei left, excusing herself to the bathroom. The minutes ticked by, slower now that there was nothing to distract her, and she spun her mug uneasily on the lacquered table. Kotei was younger than she was, and for the umpteenth time she really wondered if she could handle herself against an opponent like Suna. If Suna even did show up. Divide and conquer and all that, what were the odds that their little group would run into him? 25%, a voice in the back of her mind whispered. There's only four groups, so it's actually pretty high...

"She's late," Touya said once everything had been eaten. They'd been sitting in silence for a while now, and Suzaku and Touya's agitation were apparent.

"Give her a few more minutes," Kurama advised, though his lips were drawn into a tight frown.

Misaki, unable to take the quiet any longer, left for the restroom. Part of her hoped that she'd run into Kotei there, coming in through the window with an agility that would make her jealous, but it was empty. Where had she gone? Was she okay? The questions would not stop, and with them came a wave of uncertainty that left her feeling restless. What was she to do? What could she do? She wasn't stupid enough to sneak out and go searching for Kotei on her own; she wasn't strong, and more likely than not she'd just get in the way. So she fixed her makeup, the one thing she had control over at the moment, then returned to the table. Touya and Suzaku were gone and Kurama was putting on his coat when she returned.

"We'll be back," he said as she drew closer. "Please, Misaki, promise me that you'll wait here until we return."

"What if you don't come back?" the fear must have leaked into her voice, because Kurama smiled gently and tapped his temple. Misaki mimicked the motion and her fingers touched the flower, then unconsciously they went to wrap around the necklace he'd given her.

"I have faith that we will be alright, but if we are not back in half an hour, run and find another group and tell them what's happened. You have your rose, so you'll be alright," he reassured before making a brisk exit.

Misaki found herself watching Kotei's bag awash in a sea of worry. She was frustrated once more by her uselessness, but Kurama had told her to stay put. What if Suna really had gotten to Kotei? What was Plan B? She knew that there was one, however she wasn't certain what it could be. She knew the bare bones, the skeleton of their plot, but none of the details. Those were on a need-to-know basis, and being left in the dark was driving her mad. The safest thing to do was stay in the cafe where she was safe, or so she thought.

"Excuse me, miss, but is this seat taken?"

She was about to say it was when she felt the air around her change. It stilled in the way the wind would before a storm, and with a sinking feeling in her chest she raised her eyes to meet Suna's. Expletives danced on her tongue, but fear stopped her from cursing them out as Suna watched her placidly. He felt like a dormant volcano, picture perfect when at rest, but the earth was starting to quake and an eruption was imminent.

"Shit," Misaki said.

A/N: I meant for this chapter to come out yesterday, however the parties across the street started early yesterday and it's really difficult to focus on writing when someone is blasting Toto's "Africa" with the base boosted to deafening levels. Anyway, thank everyone who has favorited this story! A big thank you to the anonymous guest who left such a kind review; I hope you have a great week and stay tuned for the next update!


	6. Chapter 6: The Final Countdown

Chapter Six: The Final Countdown

A/N: Poor Misaki. If this were a contest to see who could draw the most short straws, Misaki would take home the grand prize (which would incidentally be another short straw). Finally, however, Misaki gets all of the pieces to the puzzle she has been anguishing over these last few days, and it is not the marvelous revelation she thought it was.

Misaki was on her feet. She was not aware she'd moved, as though her body in the absence of her mind had taken it upon itself to flee in her stead. She bumped into the table as she fled, sending its contents jumping as she stumbled back and raced towards the door, yet her gaze was locked onto Suna's dead eyes. Her brain was blank, like a covering of fresh snow, and she had superseded panic. Now all that came was an eerie calm that spoke to her in a cool, didactic voice, telling her calmly that this is where she actually would die.

Yet as she tried to run she could not. Her legs heaved but they were cemented to the floor and the pain that wrenching her feet away from the tiles brought was enough to make her look down. Sand had coiled around her ankles, hardening into rough shackles that rooted her to the spot. Misaki hadn't seen him move; he hadn't raised a finger, hadn't said a command word to get the sand to do it. It was as if the sand were an extension of himself, like a tail, that he could move freely and effortlessly. It was not an entity, but rather an appendage. The sand continued to snake up her legs, wrapping firmly around her waist and forcing her back into her seat.

Misaki smiled wryly. If this was it, then she wanted to go out with a bang, not cowering as she had in the past.

"I wish I'd worn a skirt; you could have at least exfoliated my legs for me," she said.

Suna's scowl cracked into a grin, and it was only then, now that she was closer to the table, that she saw the mug. It was frozen, as if someone had pressed pause on a movie. The coffee inside spilled in shimmery abstract forms, like blobs of paint in space. Behind him, the waitstaff was equally frozen. A woman was caught handing a coffee to a young man who held onto his daughter's hand, a student's pen was poised thoughtfully over his notebook as if he were lost eternally in thought. Outside the traffic did not fare much better; the cars inched by, their passage painfully slow as if they had not been whizzing just a few moments before. In the distance a car came barreling down the road, yet as it passed a threshold of some sort it too was caught in the spider's web, its acceleration stopping almost all together.

Experimentally she wiggled her fingers. It moved with no delay that she could see. Suna did not seem affected either, as he picked over the leftovers scattered about the table. In fact, the two of them were the only ones able to move freely and realization dawned on her like a ton of bricks. The son of a bitch had stopped time. Somehow he had managed to halt the only constant thing in this world. Somewhere in the back of her mind she heard her middle school math teacher yelling at her, "When making a graph, time is always on the x-axis! It's the only thing that's constant!" Well, Mr. Sakamoto, you were wrong, so terribly wrong.

The boys knew he was dangerous, but this went beyond anything they could have expected. This was power on a completely different level, and they were at a severe disadvantage for not knowing it. She needed to inform them, somehow. She was formulating a plan to get a pen out of her purse when Suna yawned.

"Oh, don't look like that," he drawled, "I just want to talk to you right now. I'm not going to kill you, so you can relax, alright?"

"I trust you just about as far as I can throw you," Misaki managed as he plucked an olive off of Kurama's plate.

"Wise, but misguided," Suna said, plopping the olive into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully. "Don't get me wrong; I do intend on killing you, just not today. You're not ready yet."

"Ready? What am I, a piece of steak?" she arched a brow and did her best to cross her arms. Her stomach roiled and she felt like she might puke, but she needed to hold it together long enough to figure out what Suna was up to. Screw doing dishes and chores around the temple; this was her first real opportunity to prove that she was useful and she wasn't about to let it slip away. "You have to marinate me in fear and uncertainty for at least a week until you throw me on the grill? I hear it makes the meat more tender so I guess I can't blame you."

Suna threw his head back and laughed. The sound echoed into the silence that had fallen around them, the usual clanks and chatter of the coffee shop a distant memory in her periphery. The clammy tendrils of his voice writhed into her ears and she clenched her jaw.

"Oh, you're funny," he sighed, "mores the pity. Having a conscious is a dreadful thing, isn't it? To feed off of something you know has a personality."

"You really plan on eating me?" Misaki laughed, a short, bitter thing that forced its way out of her lungs in a single gust. "I was just trying to be clever. How do you even cook a lady? Medium-rare? Rotisserie style, over a fire?"

Suna howled with laughter once more. "Perhaps it was a mistake meeting you before devouring you," he chuckled, wiping a stray tear from his eyes. "It's the fatal mistake farmers make with their cattle; giving them a name risks attachment and it makes it all the harder to slaughter them when the need arises. But," Suna inspected his fingernails, pulling off a bit of dead skin with his teeth before flicking it onto the floor, "in a game this stacked against you I find it fair to offer a handicap." He smiled, though whatever vestiges of his mirth remained had been buried deep within his terrifying expression. "So this is where the villain reveals his grand plan, knowing that regardless of what the heroes do they shall not succeed."

"What makes you so certain?" Misaki inquired. "That's a very heroine thing to ask about, right? Unerring faith in her warriors, and all that jazz."

"Your friends have raw strength, yes," Suna hummed. "Had I not managed to escape Urameshi I would not be sitting before you right now, but I have an ally on my side whose power consumes all."

"Let me guess, it's time, right?" Misaki sighed.

"Close, but no. It is fate," Suna leaned back in his chair and twirled a strand of his hair around his finger. "Those of us who can see the time stream know that nothing escapes the path fate has laid out for us, and that is why I am confident that I shall win. Their paths are predetermined, and nothing shall escape it. Well, usually nothing. Those that manage to break free of their destinies appear blindingly bright, and we are drawn to their power like moths to a flame." He paused for a minute as Misaki digested what he'd just told her. "Do you know what a paradox is?"

Misaki forced her brain to cooperate. "Like, this following statement is true, the previous statement is false, kind of paradox?"

"A rudimentary example at best," Suna sighed, "though one that most are familiar with. To put it simply, a paradox is something that is but should not be. And a much better example than your school house brainteasers of one is, in fact, you."

"Me? Are you high?"

Suna did not laugh this time. He leaned forward, unaware that he was dragging his hair through their plates. "We who control the streams of time do not gain power in the same way some muscle bound idiot does. Usage does not equate to growth. The only way to increase our power over time is to consume the chaotic energies of a paradox. The greater the paradox the more we get from it, understand?" He pushed a finger into her face. "This is the true version of you, yet there has been one that came before as well. When your two selves merge you will become the most delectable feast I have ever laid eyes on, and with your power I shall ascend to godhood."

Misaki could not lean away, her mind still buzzing from what he was telling her. She was still ruminating over her being a paradox; she was real, as far as she was concerned. Her parents had planned to have her, she had friends and feelings; didn't Descartes say "I think therefore I am?" She had a lot of thoughts, so didn't that mean she existed? And yet this man before her was telling her that she shouldn't, that she was a mistake that fate had overlooked. How could that be? And two selves? As far as she knew she had always only ever been one person, one Misaki Takahata. Part of her wanted to write it off as insanity, but there was something deep within her that told her it was true. It was like something was glowing in her chest, something that was undeniable and at ease that the truth was finally coming to light. Like a drown victim taking their first breath of fresh air and thinking, 'finally.'

Something touched her nose and she jumped. Suna's finger had rested on the bulb, and as she crossed her eyes to better look at it, it slid to her cheek where it cradled her face gently.

"In three months you will be catapulted back in time. When you return, I shall devour your soul," his eyes flickered to the window suddenly, and the sweet expression on his face morphed into a grimace as he hissed. "It appears as though our chat has come to an end."

Misaki followed his gaze out the window and saw Kurama, Kotei, Touya, and Suzaku across the street. Miraculously, they were moving. It was as though they were running directly into a hurricane and their progress was slow, but while everything around them was stalled they were definitely making progress.

"I'll see you again in three months," he said, turning her chin so she was looking at him once more. "until then, be well, Misaki."

The sand that trapped her dissipated with him as time snapped back into place. A car horn blared from outside, followed by the screech of brakes and a loud bang. The server that was handing the man his coffee launched forward, the cup tumbling from her hands as the man quickly shielded his child from the boiling hot liquid. Several people jolted also, then rushed to the window to see what was going on outside just as the door flung open and Kurama came barreling into the room.

"Misaki!" he cried, desperation lacing his voice as he bounded to the table. He was at her side in an instant, his sharp eyes taking in the piles of sand around her as Misaki slowly stood and began to brush herself off. "Misaki, are you alright? Did he hurt you?"

"I'm fine," Misaki shook off his concerns and was surprised to find that she was alright. She laughed, ignoring how hollow it sounded to her own ears, and a second later she found that Kurama had taken her hand and was giving it a firm squeeze. "If I didn't have bad luck, I'd have no luck at all."

"We should leave," Touya said, appearing at Kurama's right as Suzaku and Kotei shook the sand off their things, "before anyone notices us and asks questions."

"I agree," Suzaku was less certain, his frown tightening as he looked at Misaki's forced levity. "We will get the word out to the others and meet you back at the station."

Kurama nodded. There were no arguments as they gathered their things and beat a hasty retreat out of the cafe. As soon as they stepped outside Touya, Kotei, and Suzaku were gone, moving faster than her eyes could register. Kurama tugged at their joined hands and led her away from the crowd that had collected around the car accident.

"What happened?" Misaki asked, craning her head to watch as the two drivers argued loudly in the street."

"I'm not entirely sure, but I can postulate," Kurama led her around a corner and the accident disappeared from sight. "I believe it was reality attempting to regain equilibrium. To compensate for the lack of progress, time accelerated and those caught inside his territory were unable to compensate."

"How were you and the others able to move? Even cars were stuck at a standstill."

"We flooded our bodies with yoki which allowed us to run at our top speeds," he said.

"Shit," Misaki swore. You could outrace a bullet train...have you ever thought of running in the Grand Prix?" She shook her head with a laugh, imagining Kurama in full racing gear lapping a race car. "Time magic, huh? Who'd have thought?"

Kurama did not reply but he did stop, turning on Misaki so quickly that she crashed into his chest. His arms wrapped around her in a second, pulling her close. He was warm, and though his body looked slender Misaki could feel the hard pack of muscle just beneath his wool coat. Despite everything that had happened today this was by far the strangest, and yet she felt safe. She let her eyes drift shut, burying her head into him as he gently stroked her hair, ignoring the fact that they were in the middle of the street and quite possibly garnering their fair share of stares.

"Are you sure you're okay?" his voice was soft, quiet, and Misaki wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him a tight hug before pulling away.

"For someone who was just told she has three months left to live, I feel like a million yen," she smiled at Kurama and hoped he found comfort in the gesture. In truth, she was running on auto-pilot, her mind still wrapped up in thoughts about paradoxes. In fact, her time limit did little to bother her. The fact that she shouldn't even truly exist was what was throwing her into an existential crisis, but how could she relay that to Kurama?

"You don't have to pretend," Kurama was stroking her hair, and the gentle thread of his fingers through the locks were enough to make her sigh.

"I promise, I'm alright," she nodded. "I might not be in a couple of hours, but for right now I'm fine."

They arrived at the station first, camping out by the entrance as the other groups trickled in. When everyone was accounted for they boarded the train just as they had that morning, but this time Misaki and the former detectives all sat together. Nobody spoke until the last stranger in the car departed, leaving them on the long, lonely, hour ride back to Genkai's remote temple.

It was only then that Misaki spoke up.

"So apparently I'm a time paradox and I'm going to be eaten in three months."

"What?" Kuwabara cried as Yusuke, in tandem, yelled, "Run that by me again?"

Misaki recounted her conversation with Suna; his time powers, how he planned on eating her when her paradoxical energies where at their peak, etc, etc. They all listened quietly and when she was done they took a minute to mull it over. They wore expressions of shock, as if she had been trying to teach them calculus in Greek. Well, all save for Kurama, who merely sighed and ran a hand irritably through his hair.

"I did not realize how soon you'd be thrown back...if feels as if you've just met me," his mouth twisted into a bemused smile that drew the attention of the others. "I've been dallying."

"What the hell are you on about?" Yusuke demanded, his confusion at his friends' cryptic statement palpable.

Misaki shared in it for a moment before, suddenly, everything clicked into place. The familiarity, knowing things about her he couldn't possibly have known, three months before she was teleported back in time...Botan's words were screaming through her ears. Nobody knew just how hold Kurama was. Misaki locked eyes with him, the two sharing an unspoken understanding that rattled her more than Suna had.

On their first meeting Misaki had asked him if they'd met before. He had said no, and he had been right, but she never thought to ask him if she'd met Youko Kurama before. Years and years, and years before their first official meeting, had she known him as that notorious thief? Misaki's mouth went dry as he ears began to ring.

"You knew this was going to happen?" Genkai rounded on Kurama with a hawk-like stare. "For how long?"

"A couple hundred years," he answered, "though Misaki will remind me again when I am twelve."

"Wait, hold the phone, I'm confused," Yusuke said as Kuwabara fell back into his seat with a bewildered look. "Someone lay it out for me before I start hitting people. What the hell is going on?"

"You're gonna go back in time and meet Youko Kurama?" Kuwabara's outburst seemed to put an end to Yusuke's, not because he was interrupting the ex-detective's tirade but because he'd seemed to pick up on the gist of things faster. And that annoyed Yusuke. "How are you gonna survive that?"

"Enough," Genkai barked, "We will table this discussion until we get back, since you all seem incapable of keeping your voices down," She glared at them each individually. "Until then, I don't want to hear a word breathed of this, understood?"

There was a mumble of agreement, and while they did not speak the looks they gave each other were as good as any conversation. Yusuke was still confused and had a thousand more questions bouncing around his head, yet every time his self-control seemed to slip he'd look at Genkai and would fall quiet again. Genkai looked out the window, though Misaki could see her eyes watching them all through the reflection. Once or twice their gazes would meet, and Misaki knew that the old woman felt bad for her. Her eyes would soften sadly, as if mourning the regular life that she would no longer be able to lead. There was blame there, too, as if Genkai wished she had the power to keep this strange world from her, as if she took Misaki's involvement personally. She had to look away then, each tender look enough to batter the wall she'd constructed around her emotions. Kurama would not look at her. He stared everywhere but at her, and while Misaki knew that this should bother her she wasn't at all offended. They were under a gag order by Genkai and while she wasn't sure if it applied to her as well she didn't want to take the risk and find out.

Instead she stared at Kuwabara, who was the only one who seemed to understand how she was feeling. His jaw was set in determination, his narrow eyes squinting at her as if he were trying to telepathically convey to her his support. Misaki could almost swear she heard it, too, his loud voice telling her that they would figure everything out. He and the detectives would make sure everything came out okay in the end and that she had nothing to worry about. Kuwabara the Man was on the job, after all.

The rest of the trip was a blur, even the infamous stairs. The only indication that she'd climbed them was the weakness in her legs and how she had to stop at the top of the stairs to catch her breath. Kurama waited with her as the others went on, Genkai telling them where they would be meeting when they were ready. Once the last of the group had disappeared into the temple, Kurama had Misaki sit on the steps. They were cold and bit into her jeans as Kurama sat next to her with a deep sigh.

"Before we go in there I figured I would let you ask some questions first," Kurama picked at a loose thread on the end of his jacket.

He still would not look at her. The dusk sky cast blue shadows over his face, and Misaki could not help but marvel at how handsome he was. Earlier, when she'd hugged him, he'd smelled like a forest after it rained, petrichor she believe it was called. She'd wanted to bottle it and wear it as a perfume. It had been such a sweet scent that had comforted her, and before she knew what she was doing she'd pressed herself up against him and burrowing into his shoulder. He stiffened, but wrapped an arm around her back anyway, pulling her closer so that the warmth of their bodies chased away the cold.

"I'm not sure what questions you'd think I'd have," Misaki mumbled into his collar. That fresh, green, smell flooded into her nose and she felt herself relaxing. She didn't realize just how tense she'd been. "It's all pretty self explanatory; in three months I'm going to go back in time and meet you."

"There is plenty more to it than that," Kurama sighed, "but yes, I suppose that is the gist of it. When I first rescued you and Keiko I was overjoyed to see you again. For the longest time I believed that you were gone, just a figment of my imagination, a means for my brain to deal with traumatic events. When you're as old as I am you come up with some strange coping methods for the weight of your memories, and I believed that you were one of them. But seeing you again, being able to touch you again, it reaffirmed that you were real, and I cannot describe to you the joy that it brought me."

"That's why you looked like a kid on Christmas Day," Misaki said. "I thought your face that night looked a bit weird. Unless you're a sadist, guys usually don't look that pleased to see a woman in pain."

"Imagine going nearly two thousand years thinking that you've hallucinated one of the most important people in your life," Kurama chuckled. "Realizing you were right all along is validating." He stroked her hair as he spoke, and Misaki felt the rest of her tension slip away. He knew exactly where to touch her to make her relax, to make her spine tingle as the strands tickled gently at her scalp. Before she would have found it mysterious, but now she knew better. He wasn't just randomly guessing, he was simply used to knowing what she liked.

"How close were we?" Misaki asked at last, and Kurama's arm around her waist tightened a bit.

"Very close," he answered. "Lovers, towards the end at least."

"No shit," she said and Kurama chuckled a bit.

If she were not more emotionally drained her heart might have skipped a beat, but as it were she felt nothing. They had been that intimate, and yet she was not in love with him. At least not yet. She wondered if Kurama still had feelings for her, clutching onto them through the ages, yet the question didn't seem right to ask at the moment. What if he said yes? Would she feel obligated to be with him in the few months before she was eaten? But more importantly, what if he said no? What if she came back and was madly in love with him and he no longer felt the same way? She could not tell from his expression how he currently felt; sure, he was holding her tenderly, but it could be a comfort thing. If they were that close then he would know exactly what to do to make her feel better, and his own feelings would have nothing to do with it.

"And what did you mean by me being a coping strategy?"

"Your stay in the past will not be steady. You shall fade in and out, reappearing days, or months, or years later. The only common strain between your appearances is that they shall all occur when I am at my lowest. You only appear when things are about to go disastrously wrong. You will save me more times than I can count."

"Will I save you, or will you save yourself?"

"Your razor wit is something that I've always admired," he laughed, the sound deep and low in his chest. "Yes, I suppose in a strange way I shall save myself. These next three months I shall devote myself to teaching you about what is going to happen so that you can bail me out."

"So at least I'll be prepared," Misaki leaned away so she could look up at him. "What happens after that? When I get back?"

"I do not know," Kurama's smile was sad, and he pressed her head back into his chest so she could not see it. "That is in the future, and I do not know about that. All I can do is instruct you on what has already happened."

"I see," Misaki said and then fell silent. There really wasn't much more she could think to ask at the moment. She was certain in the morning she'd have a whole notebook full of questions for him, but at the moment all she could concern herself was with Kurama's warmth and smell and her own tired body that seemed to sag like a branch laden with snow against him. She wanted to drift off to sleep, but there was still that meeting with Genkai and the others. They would want to know what was going on. They needed to know as this was their mission after all.

Eventually they parted and stood. Misaki trailed sluggishly behind Kurama as they headed to the shrine of Enma, where the detectives frequently had their meetings. The fearsome statute lorded over them all as they filled the others in on what was going on. There was, surprisingly, not that much to discuss. Suna's plan was straightforward and relied entirely on something that was, inevitably, going to happen. They could try and stop it all they wanted, but fate was fate. Kurama had clear memories of Misaki from his time as Youko Kurama, and therefore Misaki would have to go back.

"Plus," he'd said after Yusuke had suggested, for the umpteenth time, that they simply beat Suna into submission, "if she doesn't go back, I most likely will die."

A hush fell over the room then.

"Which means we would all die," Kuwabara frowned uncomfortably. "We'd never be able to get past the Saint Beasts without Kurama."

Yusuke had gone still, his eyes darting to Hiei in the corner with something akin to malice. "We wouldn't even get to the Saint Beasts without Kurama. And Keiko would have been turned into a demon."

Hiei looked up at that and their eyes met. A moment of tension passed between the two as Hiei scoffed. "The what-ifs don't matter," the shorter demon snapped. "They've already happened and they can't be changed now."

"So no matter what we do, she has to go back," Genkai observed her thoughtfully. "Kurama, I suppose you intend on letting her know what will happen?"

"Yes," Kurama nodded, "I'm going to use our remaining time together to teach her what she needs to know about the distant past. Starting tomorrow, of course. We've all had quite a long day."

Shortly after the meeting ended and they trudged their way back to their rooms. As Misaki flopped down onto her futon, Keiko gave her a curious look.

"How was the trip?" Keiko asked uncertainly. "After you returned everyone ran to the meeting room..."

"A lot of bullshit happened, Keiko," Misaki groaned. "And I am literally wrapped up in its center. Like, I'm more fucked than a whore at a brothel."

"Misaki," Keiko scolded and the other girl just laughed.

"It's true, though. No matter what I do I can't get out of what's going to happen, or what's already happened or...I don't know. I'm so confused right now that all I want to do is go to sleep," Misaki mumbled as she buried her face into her pillow. "Sleep is the only thing that makes sense right now. I'll tell you in the morning, alright?"

"Alright," Keiko's voice was laced with worry, but Misaki did her best to ignore it. As much as she wanted to assuage her roommate, she knew that the truth would only disturb her. She fell into a dreamless sleep shortly afterwards, and Keiko's alarm woke her the next morning as if no time had passed at all.

A/N: I just want to put here that I believe T.S. Eliot was full of it; March is not the cruelest month, but November is. I have been sick for the entire month it seems, and now I have a lovely little case of laryngitis. It feels as if I've gargled with hot coals, which double sucks because this is No-School November. The students have every Friday from here until Thanksgiving off, which you'd think would leave me with plenty of time to write. So I apologize if this feels lacking. I had an outline and a plan for this chapter, but not the energy to write it. Next week I should (hopefully) be better. It's a short one this week, but next week it'll be much longer as we get a snapshot of the rest of the story. Kurama is going to spend some time schooling Misaki on what's going to happen to her and how to survive. Plus, she'll track down the only other two people who had met her before the present date; Sojobo and Yomi. A huge thank you to everyone who has favorited and followed! Your responses are what keeps me going! Also, with Chapter 6 this is officially the longest story I've posted (aside from the train wreck that is Gaara's Relationship Problem which we do not talk about). Stay tune for next week! As Yusuke says, "The Other World isn't watching for nothing!"


	7. Chapter 7: Memories All Alone

A/N: A paradox is a thing that is, but should not be. Last week Misaki discovered that she is one such enigma, despite having a pretty solid origin story, and was told that Suna planned on devouring her after she returns to the present. With only three months to prepare, Kurama takes it upon himself to give her as much information about the past as he can to ensure that she not only survives, but also does not drastically alter the future.

It would be three days before Misaki heard anything else from Kurama as he could not get any more time off from work. It was an unpleasant jolt from reality. Like watching someone in virtual reality goggles accidentally hit their wall and jump ten feet, it was a reminder that there existed a reality beyond what she was experiencing herself, one that did not involve her. Work seemed so mundane that it was laughable, absurd almost, and the fact that Kurama had obligations outside of her own world-changing adventure rubbed her the wrong way. How dare he allow his personal life to take precedent over her own? Wasn't she important? She felt selfish for thinking this way and hated herself, yet she could not stop the petty anger when it nipped at her heels.

So she busied herself with chores, hoping that keeping her hands busy would keep her mind from wandering. But the manual labor almost gave her too much time to think. She could fold a load of laundry while on autopilot, and her thoughts would inevitably turn towards whatever big revelations Kurama would have for her. She tried to imagine them, tried to prepare herself by role playing out whatever it was he had to say. However it never worked. She never felt like her day dreams were grand or bizarre enough. Everything she'd learned so far has yanked the rug out from under her feet and each time she regained her balance something else would hit her and the world would tilt once more. It was disconcerting, this falling feeling, and Misaki helplessly wondered if anything was ever going to make sense again.

After dinner was finished and the dishes were put away, Misaki met Kurama in the courtyard. The pleasant chill of autumn had been overwhelmed by winter's deep freeze, and the soft earth had hardened until it crunched beneath her feet with each step she took. Her breath puffed out in clouds around her mouth, and as she pulled her scarf up over her nose she recalled how she'd used to pretend to be a train when she was a kid during frosts. She would throw her head back and huff, sending bursts of condensing mist above her, choo-chooing as she marched up and down the street. She'd had a blast doing it, and Misaki wondered when such simple things had stopped entertaining her. When had childlike wonder been eclipsed by the harshness of reality? Had she not felt like she was walking to the headman's block she might have indulged her whimsy and played pretend. Maybe that was it...she knew too much about the world now to be just a simple change. She was a paradox, after all, and she was certain if it got much more complicated than that.

The two set out across the yard in silence and before she knew it they were in the forest. Kurama showed no indication that he was going to say anything. His bangs obscured his eyes as if they were a shield against her, as if he did not want her to see the expression on his face. It made her nervous. What could he have to tell her that would set him on edge? Were the memories that unpleasant? And why was he dragging her out into the forest when it was freezing outside?

They passed through a natural arch in the branches and into a clearing where a small cabin squatted against the tall pines. Kurama made for it, grabbing an arm full of wood that was stacked neatly by the door before shouldering his way in. It was small, only one room with a sunken fire pit in the middle, and if the coating of dust was any indication the place hadn't been used in some time. Kurama busied himself with making a fire in the small hearth, eventually sparking it to life and beckoning her to sit beside him. She did as she was told, huddling close to the fire until she could feel the heat lap at her toes through her boots.

Misaki watched him then. The fire had turned his eyes gold, his hair silver, and it took her a few seconds to realize that she was looking at a completely different man. He was taller, way taller, her head barely coming up to his chest and she was sure he'd loom over her if they were both standing. Perched atop his head were two large ears that only added to his imposing stature. His hair was like spun silver and trailed behind him like a bridal veil. It was so thick and long that it obscured his tail, which she only noticed was there when it twitched, sending his long locks shimmering in the dim light of the cabin. Despite the cold his arms were bared, the thick wool coat he was wearing nowhere to be found, and Misaki could not tear her eyes away.

Kurama smiled ruefully at her.

"I am still the same person," he reassured. His voice was deeper, darker, as if every word he spoke was crafted to draw her close enough to eat her. "I was not entirely certain of how I would reveal myself to you, however I concluded that showing would be easier than telling."

"I didn't expect you to be so tall," Misaki commented, measuring the difference in their height with an outstretched hand. "Can I touch your ears?"

Kurama laughed and the sound caused her to shiver as if he had whispered something incredibly dirty into her ear. Human Kurama had been handsome, there was no denying that. She might even go so far as to call his androgyny stunning, however Youko was otherworldly. He was enchanting, masculine, the kind of guy that a girl would conjure in her fantasies - someone that should not rightly exist in reality. The irony struck her hard and she averted her gaze, lowering her hand into her lap with a sigh as she remembered their purpose for coming here. He had not transformed so she could ogle his muscles.

"You'll ask me that on more than one occasion and the answer will always be the same," he chuckled. "Still...even a steadfast no will not quell your curiosity. Not in the slightest."

"Do I ever get to touch them?"

"Not that I know of," Kurama shook his head, his amber eyes sliding shut for a moment as he wracked his memory.

"Then let's make a promise. If I come back from the past, you let me touch your ears."

Kurama shook his head, a gentle expression on his face as he nodded his affirmation. They fell into silence once more, Kurama stretching out his long legs as the fire grew from a crackled to a roaring flame, eating up the logs Kurama had laid out for it.

"There will be many things that I cannot tell you about the past. A large part of it is because I do not wish to. You must understand that what happened during your visits are some of my most cherished memories and therefore my recollection of them is biased," Kurama began.

"What do you mean?"

"Memories are not infallible, and when one has as many as I do they become more easily altered. Emotions can change one's perception, for instance, and information learned later on can blur into a completely different memory," he paused uncertainly, his golden eyes meeting Misaki's for a fraction of second. It was enough to make her swallow, the intensity in his eyes gave off a heat more powerful than the fire. "My happiest memory could be one of the worst experiences of your life, and it would be unfair if I were to encourage you to think a certain way."

"Well, we were lovers though," Misaki said. "Wouldn't that stand to reason that I'll eventually fall in love with you?"

A flutter of emotion assailed his features. Hope, regret, anger, sadness, longing; they happened so fast that Misaki nearly missed them. What had happened between them? His suddenly despondent face, the flat way he replied to her question, the bitterness that made his mouth twist gave rise to a thousand questions. He did not reply until Misaki touched him. His arm was warm and hard as she squeezed gently.

"We were in love, right?" she asked again.

Kurama gently, but firmly, removed her hand. "Have you loved every man you've ever taken to bed with you?" His words dripped, "Who knows how you will feel in those moments? Perhaps I am even grossly mis-remembering them. Perhaps I forced myself onto you and repainted the memories with lies so that I could live with myself."

"I don't think you'd do that," Misaki insisted.

"You do not know who I was," he warned, and Misaki fell silent. There was something ominous in his voice that stayed her tongue. "I was capable of many cruel and awful things, Misaki. In fact, I am convinced that when you return you will have come to hate me."

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Misaki shook her head adamantly. "Besides, it doesn't matter who you were, but rather who you are now."

"Normally, yes, but this is not a normal situation," Kurama argued. "You will be dealing with who I was, and Youko Kurama was not known for his kindness. That is why there are some things I need to tell you. I need to teach you how to survive encountering me."

Misaki leaned forward and threw another log on the fire, watching it sink among the charred carbon of the others as it sank into the sparks.

"So where do we start?" she said. When she looked up at Kurama he had returned to normal.

"Well..." hearing the soft tenor of his voice brought a wave of relief. His Youko form was too foreign, though she supposed she would soon be better acquainted with it than his human one soon. "I suppose at the beginning. The first time we'll meet, and the first time you'll save me."

"Will I save you a lot?"

"Every time you appear to me will be because I am either about to die or experience some emotional trauma."

"So I'll always see you at your worst?"

Kurama paused thoughtful, brushing a few strands of his hair behind his shoulder. "No...not my worst, but certainly at my most vulnerable. And each time, without fail, you shall bail me out of whatever mess I've gotten myself into."

"You mean you'll bail yourself out, in some really weird round-about way," Misaki shrugged. "And what do you mean by me appearing to you?"

"Your stay will not be...consecutive," Kurama frowned, rummaging through his inside coat pocket until he produced a small planner. "You will first meet me before I am a renowned thief. Our first encounter will actually be on the night of my debut heist. You'll be with me for a few weeks then you'll disappear." He opened the planner and Misaki peeked over his shoulder. It was filled with a timeline, each point marked with a dark bullet, some starred and highlighted as he flipped through the pages. He stopped at one which was circled. "Your visit after that will be two hundred years later."

"Wait, so I just...poof?" Misaki blinked. "I don't get it...are you saying I fade away or like, what happens?"

"I honestly do not know," Kurama's brow furrowed. "I wish I did...I do not want to worry you any more than you already are. All I can say is that one minute you will be standing in front of me, flesh and blood and bone, and the next you'll be gone as if you never existed at all. It was one of the main reasons why I doubted your very existence..." he paused again and met her eyes. Misaki got the feeling that he still wasn't sure that she was real and sitting next to him. "What happens to you in those years in between I do not know, and by the time I trusted you enough to ask, your disappearances were normal and I thought nothing of it."

"Okay, weird, but okay," Misaki sighed and tucked her chin onto her knees. She felt like she needed a minute to collect herself, but time had suddenly become a precious commodity. She couldn't run away from this. She needed to hear and remember what Kurama was about to tell her. She didn't want to even entertain what would happen if she were to die in the past, or alter something so that a key event never happened. She remembered learning about the butterfly effect; the wings of a butterfly in the past could cause a tsunami in the future, and she wanted to return to the world exactly as she knew and loved it.

"Do you need a moment?"

"No, let's keep going."

"Very well," Kurama said shifting again. "You will find me in a cave in a forest in the Human Realm. While I was originally born in the Demon Realm, I did not dare try such high-stakes targets yet. I was inexperienced, and while my power was considerable at such a young age I was cautious."

"You still are, from what I've learned," Misaki complimented. "I hear you're the most clever one of the group. The strategy maker."

"My cautiousness was due to insecurity back then," Kurama shook his head, "not because I was particularly clever. In fact, my first heist was not well planned out at all, and it very nearly would have killed me had you not wandered by."

"What was your original plan?"

Kurama consulted his book again. "I was going to use some plants from the demon world as a distraction and infiltrate through the back. It was simple, but I believed that there was elegance in that."

"What goes wrong?"

"The estate I targeted belonged to some humans who had hired demon hunters," Kurama explained. "Back then the Kekkai Barrier was not in place and there were holes to the Demon Realm everywhere. It was not uncommon for demons looking for an easy meal to cross over, so many of the rich would hire psychics to protect their lands. These mystics were fearsome and most who ran afoul of them perished."

"So the second they saw the plants from the demon world, the hunters knew exactly what was happening," Misaki frowned. "I'm not much of a fighter, so I can't really see how I'd help you out of that. It's not like I could just run up to them and be all, 'hey! If you kill this guy the world pretty much ends, yeah?'"

"At first you will suggest that you accompany me and act as the distraction. Having a normal human show up and claim to be attacked by a demon would provide me with an opportunity to slip in. It was virtually unheard of back them for a demon and a human to be working together. But I will not trust you immediately, and I will hold you in the cave while I go to the estate on my own." The fire popped, sending a spark into the space in between them. Kurama patted it out quickly with his hand, then left it there. Misaki was aware that it was only a few inches from her own, and the near touch was unbearable. It was like watching the climax of a movie over and over again, and never seeing the resolution. He continued, "The rose will be enough to keep me from killing you on sight, and in a moment I will tell you some things of my past in order to help convince my past self that you are a friend."

"What plan do I pitch instead?"

"You suggest that I play a long game using the demon world plants. Set several seeds around the estate then fall back and hide," Kurama said. "Then set a trail deeper into the woods for them to follow. Once the majority of the forces are gone, I will infiltrate without having to deal with the brunt of the hunters."

"And you survive?"

"It's a near scrape, but I manage to take what I was after and flee before I am caught," Kurama said. "When I return to the cave I will call you a witch and wish to kill you once more. It is then that you must convince me that you are on my side and someone to be trusted. You make a bet with me and claim that you can get me through five more successful heists in the span of three weeks. If I fail even one of them, I may kill you. If I do not, then I was to promise to never allow harm to come to you."

"I hope you take me up on it. I also hope you don't kill me."

"I do not kill you, and yes, I accept the wager. The result of the first burglary was difficult to argue with. You will guide me on those five heists, allowing me to pick the targets and create the plan, then adjusting it so that I would have the least amount of resistance. It works well, and by the end of our time together I have come to trust you. Your powers of foresight were mysterious to me at the time, and though I pry I will never discover the secret."

"Why can't I just tell you that I'm a time traveler and have met you from the future?"

"For the same reason I did not tell you the same thing when I met you outside of your school," Kurama smiled ruefully. "I would not believe you. In fact, I would be certain that you were mocking me and would take your life. I was a prideful creature and did not enjoy being taken for a fool."

"Okay...so you're a rash arrogant thief who doesn't like being teased, got it," Misaki sighed. "That's gonna be tough for me, you know? Like, I tease you all the time nowadays, it'll be difficult to break that habit."

"It will be easier than you think. I will not look the same, and therefore you may be able to separate my selves into two entirely separate beings in your mind. In fact, that is what I would recommend you do. There are more differences between us than similarities, and it would be less confusing for you."

As the night grew deeper and darker the fire seemed to grow brighter. They spoke at length about the missions they would plan together in those three weeks. Each target grew bigger and bigger, the risks greater and greater, and Misaki's insight would prove invaluable to his survival. Part of it, he explained, was a test. If Misaki said she knew how to keep him alive, then it didn't matter the danger that he put himself in; she would find a way around it. By the last week he is ready to try is biggest target yet, Sojobo's Palace.

"I suppose it is now best to tell you a bit more about my family history," Kurama's expression was grim. "I hope you'll forgive me if I seem hesitant. I do not talk about my childhood as it was quite unpleasant."

"Hey, we have all night," Misaki took his hand then, gently laying hers over his and squeezing the fingers. They stayed like that for a quiet second as she wondered whether or not she should have done that, since he had rejected her touch earlier. But he did not move, and so she laced her fingers through his own and held on tightly. "Take your time. I'll just listen."

"I appreciate it, Misaki," he thanked. "My mother was a kitsune living in the Demon World, though she would often pass into the Human World in order to make mischief with the nobility there. While visiting Mount Kurama she went into labor, and deciding that the Human World was a safer place to have a litter than the Demon World, so she decided to remain there to raise her young. However, among the litter was a silver kitsune. Most kitsune looked like regular foxes, you see, and having one born with gold or silver fur was a bad omen. By nature, those of abnormal color would dwarf the rest of their species when it came to power. Still, my mother did not abandon me, though perhaps she should have.

"My mother, my siblings, and myself lived in the nooks and crannies of Mount Kurama for a few months until word got out that a kitsune had been born with silver fur. It was then that the lord of the mountain, King Sojobo, sent out a manhunt for me. My mother was unable to evade his forces and my family was slaughtered. I was still only a few months old and my recollection of the day was blurry, but somehow I managed to escape. I fed off of seeds and berries in the forest and eventually graduated to stealing food and necessities from human villages."

"You did all of that when you were only a few months old?"

Kurama chuckled, though there were little humor in the sound. "As a child I was not mature enough to create a human body for myself, so I lived entirely as a fox. Once my eyes were opened I operated entirely on instinct, and that was how I was able to survive my early childhood."

"Didn't anyone help you? Or take you in?"

"There were a few humans who would throw their leftovers to me, or turn a blind eye when I curled up near their homes to sleep," Kurama shook his head, "but on the whole I did not receive much support. Humans were fearful of demons, even one as young as I, plus kitsune were known to be tricksters."

"But like, usually if you helped a kitsune they'd repay you," Misaki interrupted and Kurama graced her with a smile. "I mean...at least in the myths..."

"Myths and reality are two very different things. I would recommend you forget most of what you've learned and try to approach things from a new perspective," Kurama's hand twitched under her own before he continued. "I became very good at stealing and hiding, and soon enough I was strong enough to slip back into the demon world where there were not hunters after my head. The Demon World is full of violence, however, and it soon became apparent that I would need to fight to stay alive. I cultivated my abilities then, I grew stronger and crueler, and soon I had enough confidence in myself to begin wanting more."

"And that's when I meet you?"

"Precisely. You will be instrumental in my early days as a thief, guiding me and helping to shape my way of thinking," Kurama paused. He turned his hand so that their palms were pressing together and he laced his fingers with hers.

They sat like that for a while longer. Occasionally Kurama would break through the silence with another tid bit of information, a hurried blurb as if it may be the only things that separated her from her imminent demise. Things like his favorite plants, his favorite meals, what traits he looked for in his band of thieves, they all came pouring out to punctuate the silence as if he were giving her the nuclear launch codes. The worst was that Misaki wasn't sure what was important and what wasn't. Maybe Kurama was overcompensating, covering all of his bases so that nothing would be overlooked. Perhaps, at some point, her life would depend on evaluating a new member of his group, or picking a flower that he might enjoy. Part of her told her that wasn't the case. A mix of nerves and uncertainty had compelled Kurama to overshare and by the time the fire had turned into nothing but smoldering embers, Misaki could guarantee that she knew more about Kurama than anyone else.

Perhaps she didn't know about his character, or his resolve, or just how deep his cunning went, but she certainly knew all the first date questions. Dreams, weaknesses, insecurities; he was painting a portrait for her of his inner workings, a detailed and elaborate canvas that was as abstract as it was massive. Anything to ensure her survival, anything to make sure she came back safe and alive.

Eventually they left, putting out the fire and scraping the ashes out of the fire pit and into an iron pot nearby. The night had grown deep and the trees cast eerie shadows over their path. They stayed close, walking shoulder to shoulder as the arctic wind whistled through them. By the time they returned, everyone else had gone to bed and her toes were quite frozen. She warmed them for a minute in the kitchen, rubbing her hands over the chilled appendages as Kurama set a kettle on the stove.

"Unfortunately I won't be able to see you again for another few days," he said as he pulled two mugs out of the cabinets. "I'm going to cover as much of what will happen with you as I can, focusing primarily on the instances where your life will be in immediate danger."

"Will you ever stop suspecting me of being a witch?" Misaki asked, sliding onto a stool and watching as he busied himself at the stove. There really wasn't much to do when making tea; stuff the diffusers with leaves, boil the water, add it all together and voila. It was an avoidance tactic. He was uncomfortable having to divulge so much information about himself; someone as deeply private as Kurama was must have found the experience mortifying. Yet he had placed his faith in her and had seen value in helping her. Why, though, was a mystery. Surely he must see the paradox they'd gotten into; it wasn't really her that was helping him, but himself. He might have valued her for her usefulness, but looking back on it now and knowing what he did, he must have been aware that Misaki's strategies had not been her own. She was actually awful at planning ahead. She was shortsighted and impulsive and could barely see the issues in her own plans, never mind pick out the weak links in someone else's.

"Eventually, yes," Kurama pulled out a bit of sugar and added a spoonful to his cup and a few to Misaki's. "Eventually I will come to deify you, calling you Shugotenshi."

"A guardian angel?" she raised a brow as he added the water to the mugs and placed one before her. "That's...a little much. Even for me."

"Well, what else was I supposed to think at the time?" Kurama took the seat opposite her. "I did not have the full story, I did not know...and while my appearance will change only slightly over a few millennia yours will not. You seemed like this beautiful, immortal creature whose sole purpose in existing was to aid me," he took a sip. "It was only when we were separated by the Kekkai Barrier that the truth came to life. I was unable to cross through, having been imprisoned in the Demon Realm while you remained safely on the other side. It's only then that you will tell me of your true nature, of the time slip you found yourself falling into. I will be able to put the pieces together then."

"Will you resent me for keeping the secret for so long?"

Kurama smiled though it fell short of his eyes. It was a sad, forlorn look and Misaki wanted more than anything to reach out to him. But she refrained. Whatever emotions Kurama was working through needed to be sorted out on his own. In fact, her own interference might actually be detrimental; his hang ups were about her, after all. Whatever relationship he had with her, and she would eventually have with him, had been deep and real. The thought of sitting across from someone you cared so deeply for and not seeing the same glimmer of emotion must be heartbreaking. She couldn't even begin to imagine how he felt every time he looked at her.

"No, I will not resent you," Kurama said simply. "It is getting late, though. You should finish your tea and then head to bed." Kurama stood, pulling his coat on as Misaki rose with him.

"Where are you going? You're not going to stay the night?"

"No, I have work in the morning," he smiled and flicked the hair that had gotten trapped beneath his collar over his shoulder.

"The trains aren't running this late, though. Are you planning on walking?"

"No, I borrowed my step-father's car for the trip," he finished buttoning his jacket and headed to the door. "I'll see you this weekend; we'll have a few days to go over some of the other heists I'll conduct, and then hopefully I can answer any questions you have."

"Alright...drive safely, Kurama," Misaki followed him as he slid his shoes on. "Have a good night."

"You as well."

A/N: Well! We've learned quite a bit about how Kurama came to be the way he was. There is no canon that I could find about Kurama's early childhood, so I sort of made it up. There's also the issue with his age, which I'm trying my best to resolve. Some say he's only 1,000, some say older, some say less. For the purpose of this story, we're going with older, probably around 2,000 or so. Anyway, sorry for the late and rushed chapter. November has not been kind to me. I believe that someone is tampering with the tires on my car, which sucks. I just had to replace the back two on Monday and came to find that there was a nail in one of my front tires yesterday. I've spent more time at the mechanics this week then I haven in my entire life. Anyway, as always a huge thank you to the readers who have stuck with me so far! I promise things will be picking up; next chapter will be the end of Misaki's time in the present, and after that it will be about her adventures with Youko Kurama in the past. Stay tuned! Also, over the course of Thanksgiving break I'll be going over all the chapters I currently have out and fixing any of the misspellings and funky grammar. I also realized that I called Suzuki "Suzaku" for the whole story. Which is...uh...yeah. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
